


Heliophobia

by pineapplebreads



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Force Bond (Star Wars), M/M, Slow Burn, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 13:19:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 42,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7053352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pineapplebreads/pseuds/pineapplebreads
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux has been dreaming of his imaginary friend Ben for as long as he can remember until one day, the dreams stop and Hux never dreams again. Years later, Hux meets Kylo Ren aboard the Finalizer and it is hate at first sight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Tumblr Kylux Big Bang with work by my wonderful artist Ran (sleepran.tumblr.com)!
> 
> * For the purposes of plot and such, Hux and Ren are both the same age in this fic.

You can't sleep. Your mind is too full, your stomach too empty. The children’s screams still echo loudly, deafening. You try your best to ignore them. It wasn't your fault. It's not even your memory.

You imagine an ocean, warm and vast, endless. You think about drifting, of calmness, try to settle your mind.

It doesn’t work.

The ocean you dream of pulls you under its turbulent waves. The calm becomes a tempest, violent and wild. You hear them again, the children, begging as their lives are ended and Ben– Ben begging hardest of all.

_Don’t make me do this, please don’t, not this._

A low laugh, deep and cruel.

“This is but your first test, child. You will assuredly be great but you must remove these attachments to the light. They will only bind you and drag you down to wretchedness. When the time comes, you must be rid of _all_ of your attachments. Even the one you hold most dear. I will allow this weakness for now but one day, it must be purged from you. And now, Ben Solo, it is time to earn your new name.”

You wake screaming with the echoes of Ben’s grief and the children’s cries still ringing in your ears.

Months later, the voice finds you.

You’re fourteen, helpless and alone and terrified. The same bodiless entity you hear in your dreams reaches out to you, curls dark and heavy in your mind. It forces aside Ben’s weakened pleas ( _No, not Aeden, don’t—)_ and tears Ben from your mind. Ben’s voice is suddenly brutally silenced and there is nothing of him left.

Where Ben once was is a gaping void, dark and raw and painful beyond anything you’ve ever felt. You’re sure you’re screaming, you feel like you’re dying. You hope so; nothing feels worse than this loss, this ache.

But the voice. It slithers viscous like tar over the wound it just made, blocks the pain from you until you’re numb and cold. It fills the void Ben left and sits heavy; it chokes the breath from you.

And then it begins to whisper softly, seductive in its Darkness. It offers you power unlike anything you’ve ever known. Dark promises whispered to the destitute and melancholy.  Everything hurts, so so much. You're so desperate, so lonely ( _Ben– Ben is gone_ ).

It shows you the past, the future. It shows you terrible things, great things– what you can become. It offers you the galaxy.

And how can you refuse? How can you know any better?

What choice do you have?

*

Even now, fifteen years later, you can still hear their screams in the dark silence that surrounds you in space.

And you can’t sleep.

*

Ren is watching again.

He’s always watching when he doesn’t think Hux notices, especially when he’s in the shooting sims.

His gaze is heavy even behind the damnable mask and Hux’s shoulders prickle uncomfortably with the scrutiny. He shakes it off, refuses to be intimidated by him. He knows from experience, Ren inexplicably will not leave until Hux is finished, no matter what he does or says.

Hux squares his stance, raises the blaster in his hands and releases six precise shots. The shots find their targets in quick succession, dispersing into the four projected human shaped holograms.

Hux lowers the blaster to let it recharge, feeling tired but knowing he still will not be able to sleep. He will need to be rendered completely exhausted with bone-deep fatigue before he can succumb to restless sleep. By his own estimate, he has maybe another hour to go.

Behind him, Ren is a hovering presence, brooding and unreadable and Hux has neither the energy nor patience to attempt to deal with whatever mood he may currently be stewing in.

He raises the blaster again and the holograms reload. Two humans, a twi’lek and a wookiee. Behind him, Ren straightens his appalling posture. He must be getting bored. Hux ignores him and fires, one shot for the humans and twi’lek each. Three for the wookiee.

Before the last plasma bolt can find its way into the hologram of the wookiee, Hux senses more so than feels Ren react. The bolt is frozen in midair and he turns on his heel to face Ren with exasperation.

Ren is doing little more than standing there. His arm isn't even outstretched to freeze the bolt in place. He lifts a hand to only wave it lazily and the bolt bounces into the hologram net behind the targets and disperses.

_Show off_ , Hux thinks and he really is too tired to be dealing with this. He hasn't slept in over sixty hours. He's gone through three shifts commanding the bridge and is beginning his third sleep cycle. And still, he cannot sleep.

Hux feels his sanity slipping as he raises the blaster again, at Ren, and steadies his aim. He feels calm and wholly coherent for the first time in nearly forty hours. He briefly entertains the thought of killing Ren with dark amusement and fires.

Expectantly, Ren catches the bolt halfway between the handful of meters separating them and flicks it away with a nonchalant wave. Hux is suddenly enraged and fires again, emptying his clip at Ren who catches all twelve bolts in a quivering line between them with an outstretched hand. His hand trembles with the strain.

Hux is almost entranced by the shimmering red plasma, held in place by seemingly nothing. Hux is almost mad enough to reach out to touch. Ren remains silent, still staring, focused on Hux beneath the mask. Hux raises his blaster again.

When Hux finally sleeps, the exhausted slumber that finally overtakes him is the most restful he's had in years.

*

His new record is seventy-six hours awake. Hux operates on autopilot during his command shift as the First Order finalizes the preparations for Starkiller. Hux works tirelessly during his shifts on the bridge, even when he feels his mind slipping.

He spends hours gazing down at the ice planet he’s chosen to become his superweapon, entranced by the swirling white atmosphere. This is the small planet, little more than a frozen moon, that will change the course of history.

He imagines the results of the super weapon he’s building, the imminent screams of masses, their cries of terror as a billion souls evaporate in flames that will ring in his head for the weeks, months, years to come. For the rest of whatever is left of his life.

He is certain this will be the final catalyst that will tumble him over the edge of sanity and he will welcome the resulting peace that comes with madness. Maybe then, Hux will finally be able to sleep. Perchance, to even dream again, something he has not been able to do since– since he was a child.

Hux pushes those thoughts away, tamps them down behind an iron wall in the far recesses of his slowly splintering mind. He concentrates on the present as an anchor.

Everything he has been working for for the past near-decade is culminating in what promises to be a glorious victory for the First Order. Supreme Leader Snoke is pleased with the progress, and within a week, everything will be ready.

At night, Hux spends countless hours in the shooting range until it’s time to begin another work cycle. He works his way through the different First Order issue blasters and moves on to long range sniper rifles and loses himself in the battle simulations he had designed for the Trooper program. When his arms are too tired and heavy to support the weapons, he works on dismantling them and puts them back together, over and over again until he is intimately familiar with how each is built.

He hasn’t been able to sleep since the last time he saw Ren.

It has been almost a week since Ren has gone on a mission for Snoke with his Knights.

That is not why Hux cannot sleep.

The _Finalizer_ is much more peaceful without Ren skulking the halls and terrorizing the officers. He’s not worried about Ren. In fact, he should be glad to be rid of Ren’s irritating presence. Although admittedly, sparring with Ren does help him sleep.

They’ve worked up from Hux shooting at Ren to actual sparring and hand-to-hand combat, something Hux is no expert in but steadily improving upon. He's nothing if not a fast learner. He learns to use his smaller size and agility against Ren’s bulk and brute strength. He learns to strike where it counts.

They don't talk and Ren doesn't take off his mask but Hux learns to anticipate Ren’s moves. He ducks and weaves between long limbs to deliver his own jabs. He's managing to land more and more of his hits. Hux fights tirelessly, much like he does everything else, until sweat and blood crawl down his skin in pink lines that promise restful sleep.

He knows Ren refuses to spar at his full strength and that knowledge angers and bolsters Hux into rage fueled adrenaline. _Does Ren think him weak?_

Hux wishes desperately for Ren to use his full power, to break bones and tear sinew. He knows what Ren is capable of in his full glory. He's seen it. It would be a beautiful pain.

The sparring sessions last only up to Ren’s whim or until Ren loses patience and pins Hux to the ground with the Force, if only to halt Hux’s own self-damaging trajectory. His hatred for Ren swells each time the Force reminds him how much power Ren truly holds over him. How weak this invisible intangibility makes him feel. This _ridiculous_ mysticism.

Hux would finally go to sleep bruised and battered, too exhausted to hear the voices and screams that usually keep him awake in the dark.

But Ren isn't back yet.

When he finally returns, it's been eighty-nine hours since Hux last slept.

Ren has failed his mission, it seems. It’s not information Hux has access to (it’s only between Ren and Snoke, Hux is curtly informed). It infuriates Hux and bolsters his own aggression until he’s aching for the fight, even as he feels the aggravation roll in waves off of Ren that promise pain and broken bones.

Ren starts slow, defensive and keeps his hold on his temper. Hux knows the hold is fraying when he easily deflects and dodges Ren's half-hearted swipes. He's so angered by Ren’s half attention, he _needs_ Ren to lash out, _wants_ to feel the pain of his full power.

“Come on, Ren,” Hux taunts as they circle each other, two feral animals sizing each other up in a cage. “I know you can do better than that. Or have you finally been tamed?” Hux sneers. He knows he's playing a dangerous game but he's unable to stop speaking the taunting words. “Has Snoke finally stripped you of your manhood? Is that why you need that mask? I'll wager you're nothing without something to hide behind. Or are you truly the monster they whisper about? Are you truly so hideous and despicable you must always hide behind something?”

Ren pauses for a long moment before he shrugs off his layers of ragged black robes and only his trousers and undershirt are left. Hux sees the bulk of muscles cut and honed from years of brutal training beneath the thin layers. Ren is not just magic tricks and fantastical thaumaturgy; he has brute physical strength on his side too. But Hux's masochism already knows that. Ren raises his hands to his helmet and with a soft _click_ and _hiss,_ his mask is lifted finally off and dropped to the side with a heavy _thunk_.

It’s the first time Hux sees Ren’s face. He expects a monster to emerge, twisted ugly by darkness and rage. Instead, he is struck by how young Ren looks, how unintimidating and how _vulnerable_ he appears and Hux understands why the damnable mask is necessary.

Ren is pale with awkwardly mismatched features. A nose too big for his face, a face that's just a touch too long to be conventionally attractive. Dark hair (too long for First Order regulations) he continually runs his large hands nervously through. He holds himself like someone born into royalty and power and yet his shoulders are hunched inwards as though perpetually in defense. Ren wears his vulnerability like an ill-fitting skin. His expressive eyes all too easily betray his emotions, even as his body nearly vibrates with tightly contained power.

He's so expressively– _human._

Ren reminds Hux of a boy he once thought he knew. Realistically, Hux knows that perhaps he's never really existed at all, but Ren could have been what he would've become, if he had had the chance. All the more reason for Hux to resent him.

How can this human _boy_ not any older than Hux hold so much power? They are but two wretched children playing at a game of war, truly.  

They face each other across the mat once more. Hux refuses to look anywhere but Ren’s face, taking careful note of his ticks, learning to read him even as Ren ducks his head and tries to avoid his eyes.

Hux stands relaxed in a defensive pose as Ren coils his strength into himself, like a beast about to attack. They circle each other with slow steps.

“You would stare, Ren,” Hux taunts, curling his fingers into loose fists, “when you believe I don't notice, like a coward, but when you remove that mask, you cannot even look at me. What are you so afraid of?”

Ren finally looks up. Hux sees it and understands with heart-skipping clarity, how a merciless killer can reside in the body of this ridiculous juxtaposition of a human. Ren's eyes are suddenly shuttered and flinty, merciless and grow steadily colder as his body tenses for the attack. His face drains of expression until he barely looks human at all.

He lunges and Hux almost regrets invoking him. The power flowing off of him in waves has Hux both terrified and exhilarated. He feels it like sparks of electricity circling Ren.

Ren takes his frustration out on his spar with Hux. For the first time since their nightly sessions began, Ren does not hold back. Hux feels two ribs crack beneath broad hands before Ren stops and steps away. He's heaving deep breaths with shaking shoulders and looking down at Hux with sadness in his windowpane eyes.

“Careful, General,” Ren’s voice is deep and heavy with emotion, so unlike the metallic monotonous drone from the vocoder.

Hux stays on the floor and laughs, just to feel the sharp pain in his chest and hates Ren. He will need to be healed by a med-droid before he retires to bed but he finds that he doesn't even care about the extra trouble. For once, the physical pain is sharper than the echoing pain in his head and Hux luxuriates in the feeling, welcomes it. He doesn't get up for a long time.

Hux hasn't slept in ninety-three hours. He manages to sleep for six hours after his session with Ren. It’s the longest he’s slept in over a year.

And then the headaches begin. They start as small aches behind his eyes and Hux dismisses them as side effects of insomnia. They are unimportant nuisances and do not impede on his work.  

However, they seem to get worse, noticeably when he is forced to spend prolonged amounts of time in Ren’s presence.  Hux thinks it may be because his tolerance for Ren’s tantrums and childish rages is dwindling and the less time spent near Ren, the better. Hux gets a short reprieve when Ren leaves to galavant the galaxy searching for a rumored map of Luke Skywalker.

Hux reverts back to not sleeping. The screams in his head are louder when he lays down to sleep. Hux starts avoiding his bed. He starts taking meds for the pain and swallows them by the handful with cups of tepid caf and his distaste for this weakness. It's a steadily growing dependence.

There are dark smudges under Hux’s eyes and his skin feels too tight, stretched thin over his rapidly emaciating frame. He pads the shoulders of his greatcoat and wears it like a cloak draped across his shoulders. He takes extra care to make sure his appearance is impeccable before he goes on duty.

The headaches do not go away despite Hux’s frequent consumption of pain-tabs and Ren’s absence. He pilfers them from the medbay and takes them at every flare of pain just so he can force himself to focus on his daily tasks. It is tantamount to his control and ironclad will that he is able to remain standing for all nine hours of his command shift.

The pills only work well enough to give him a brief respite before the pain returns but Hux pushes on, ignores the sharp stabs behind his eyes. There are preparations to be made. His project is so very close to completion.

Hux begins to lose lapses of time. There will be hours on the bridge he cannot remember, datapads he’s supposedly read and signed and cannot remember. Orders he’s given and cannot remember. It is dangerous and negligent.

It terrifies and relieves Hux in equal measure; decisions are taken out of his hands when the hours pass without his notice. For brief moments, the weight of the galaxy does not sit squarely on his shoulders.

He is only snapped out of his sporadic fugues when he feels Ren.

He can feel Ren across the galaxy flying into a rage. He can feel the exhilaration of battles won. He can feel the steady thrum of thoughts and Ren's personal interpretation of peace when he meditates. Most disturbingly, he can feel when Ren ruminates over the loss of one of his Knights and Hux is able to feel the sharp stab of grief across the span of systems.

Hux _feels_ it keenly when Ren finally returns. The pain behind his eyes reach a near excruciating point and he nearly collapses into the console before him as he forces his body to remain upright in his rigid parade rest.

Ren is _enraged_ , Hux somehow knows.

Ren lost the map. To a Resistance pilot and his droid, no less. _Snoke’s best Knight bested by Resistance scum_ , Hux thinks with only a hint of hysteria and overwhelming scorn. His head throbs.

“It’s in a droid,” Ren finally tells him after he interrogates the Resistance pilot. Hux is certain his own head hurts as much as the pain Ren inflicted on the unfortunate pilot. “A BB unit.”

Hux is sorely tempted to roll his eyes but refrains himself. That certainly narrows it down. The headache builds and he can feel Ren’s annoyance and frustration soar. Instead of snark, Hux takes pity on him.

“Well then,” he intones dryly. “If it’s on Jakku, we’ll soon have it.”

“I leave that to you,” Ren tells him before striding down the hall, his robes a dramatic black swirl flowing around him. Patrolling Troopers and officers scurry out of his way as Ren stomps down the hall, his gait obnoxiously loud.

Hux _hates_ him with a passion unlike anything he's ever felt before. This self-important _brat_ would be so insolent. The pain in his head nearly blinds him when combined with his incandescent rage.

He takes another handful of pain-tabs.

Much later, Ren joins him at a viewport overlooking the planet beneath them. Hux does not want his company but he does not say anything to make Ren leave either.

Ren is silent next to him, a heavy presence that makes Hux feel oddly unbalanced.

“My master has tasked me with finding the map by any means necessary,” Ren says apropos of nothing. It's something Hux already knows but he will not rise to whatever bait Ren is dangling by asking why he is stating such obvious nonsense.

“I've seen visions of what will happen when Starkiller is fired, General,” Ren continues after a long beat. _Ridiculous_ , Hux thinks, but he is surprised to feel the trepidation coming from Ren. “Not everything is to fall so perfectly in line with your plans.”

Hux really does not have the patience for Ren's mystical ramblings. He scowls. “What exactly does that mean, Ren?”

“Be prepared,” Ren replies and elaborates no further. Hux, feeling as though he would be losing at whatever competition they're always engaged in should he ask about Ren's cryptic words stays silent. He refuses to give Ren the satisfaction.

*

Hux is unsure how the week passed so quickly with him barely cognizant enough to notice. He hasn’t slept. His measure of the days passing is the quickly dwindling pile of pain-tabs he’s stolen. Time passes without his notice. He only knows reality vaguely above the agonizing pain in his head that flares whenever he feels Ren fly into a mood, even when Ren is off-planet.

Hux barely has enough coherence to question exactly _how_ is he able to feel Ren at all, but he senses him all the same. He feels it when Ren finally captures the scavenger girl who's been running amok the galaxy with Skywalker’s map. He senses the surprise and sadness Ren feels when he attempts to enter her mind and parses the paltry information he is able to receive.

The girl is strong with the Force too. Ren feels it and Hux feels it through his feedback. The girl is familiar and Ren _recognizes_ her but it cannot be– Ren must strengthen his will. His ties to the dark side are slipping, just from the presence of this scavenger, he is tempted by the call to the light. He will be strong; he will ignore it.

Or so he says when he stands before his master. Hux is unable to help the sneer when he enters the holo chamber and glances over to see Ren unmasked. He looks younger than ever and so _vulnerable._ Hux feels secondhand embarrassment for his weakness but that's fine, he can be strong enough for both of them.

Suddenly, he is looking up into the sky streaked with red as his legions of Troopers stand at attention before him. He remembers a speech, and only just barely. Another lapse in memory.

The pain in his head magnifies until it takes all of his strength to remain standing when the streaks of red light arc into the planets of the Hosnian System. His knees buckle as the planets explode, lighting up the sky in blinding red and flaming white.

Hux is transfixed by the sight, unable to bring himself to tear his eyes away. This is his life’s work, his legacy. This is his place in history. This is his doing and it will become his undoing.

He hears all of the screams of the billions in the Republic as they die and he feels their deaths, in his head and in his body. He feels as though he’s on fire too; the pain is unbearable. It spreads from his temples and down his body, to the tips of his fingers and his toes. He folds his fingers tight into his palms until he can feel his nails digging, even through the leather of his gloves. His hands are shaking despite his best attempts to hold them still.

Hux stands straighter as the pain flows white-hot through him. He feels the energy of the novas he created, eating him alive from the inside out. A scream builds in his throat, but he forces it down, clenches his teeth tight until his eyes are red with barely restrained tears and he watches.

He will not look away from this.

And then there is nothing, only silence ringing loud with the echo of dying screams.

Everything that follows seem to happen at the speed of a fast forwarding holovid. For one precious eternal moment, Hux is holding all the power of the galaxy in his hands and in the next, he’s lost everything.

It’s all gone.

The Resistance have somehow bested all of them and they’ve destroyed Starkiller. They’ve bested the First Order. They’ve bested Ren.

Hux feels it when Ren falls and he very nearly collapses with him. He forcibly pulls himself together and drags himself into Ren’s _Upsilon_ shuttle and embarks on what is likely to be a suicide mission to find the idiot.

The planet’s death rattles echo throughout the continent Starkiller is embedded in and Hux forces himself not to think of anything, to ignore the screams that echo increasingly louder in his head. He has to fly low to see the ground and the shuttle skims the tops of trees as he passes them, bringing a majority of them down and into the crumbling cracks across the snowy surface.

_Don’t look back, idiot. Don’t look back_ . It’s all gone. Everything he’s worked so hard for– years of planning and building and _it’s all gone_.

Hux knows that he will not survive this. The Supreme Leader implied as much when Hux was standing before him as the base was crumbling beneath his feet.

“The fuel cells have ruptured. The collapse of the planet has begun,” Snoke said, his voice dangerously low. His words were pointed as though he was faulting Hux in the planet’s collapse. “Leave the base at once and come to me with Kylo Ren. It is time to complete his training.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” Hux said dutifully. He turned to leave as more of the ceiling crumbled down into the room.

“And General,” Snoke said, halting Hux in his steps. His hologram was flickering. “There is a high price to pay for what you have wrought. Will you be ready to pay it when the time comes?” Snoke asked him this with a sneer twisting his scarred, ugly features. Cryptic and softly threatening as though he'd heard Hux's treasonous thoughts. Rather, as though he was certain Hux would come and Hux would beg for death. As though Hux would be so weak.

When did he become such a docile creature, no better than Ren? Perpetually bowing and scraping to his cruel master who will reward him with little more than the pain of torture and certain death.

_This could be an opportunity,_ his the treasonous part of his mind whispers, cloying and sweet. _Get away from Snoke. Take Ren and run. Convince him to your campaign. But how far can you truly run,_ coward _? With no power and no troops. Snoke will find you. His reach spans the galaxy and when he finds you, you will wish for something so blissful as death._

Hux knows unquestionably that he will die if he goes to Snoke. This is his price– for having held the galaxy in his hands. Perhaps it is better after all to accept his fate. The silence of oblivion would be a welcome reprieve from the screams that build into pulsing agony in his head and he can finally escape from the ghosts that haunt him in his restless sleep.

Focus.

Objective: retrieve Kylo Ren.

Focus on Ren.

The ground trembles as the planet heaves in its final throes and Hux lands the shuttle as safely as he is able when he feels Ren.

Somehow he knows for certain that Ren is near. He stumbles in his mad dash across the snow and carefully picks his way between the cracks that open beneath him as they yawn ever wider with each quake of the ground.

His mind thrums in a steadily enraging beat of, _where are you where are you where are you_ , as he frantically searches the dark ground for any hint of black mass. _Ren, the idiot_.

His head feels compressed and overfull. He spots a prone figure half buried by snow several meters away and the feeling intensifies as he nears Ren. Hux resolutely ignores the pounding headache and surges onwards, buoyed by finally reaching his goal.

He wastes precious seconds to scoop up a silver cross guard a few meters away. Ren’s saber.

By the time Hux reaches Ren’s side, his headache has grown to be near-intolerable and the pressure near his temples blurs his vision. He drops to his knees next to Ren and clenches his teeth, forces himself to ignore the pain, fight through it.

Hux stares down at Ren, at the ghastly gash bisecting his face and notes the dark red puddle seeping into the snow beneath his torso. _Can one lose that much blood and still live_ , he wonders inanely.

The usual ghoulish black mask Ren favors is nowhere to be seen and Hux is inexplicably glad for its absence. He presses fingers against Ren’s throat to check for a pulse and sighs in relief when he finds it, sluggish and barely perceptible but the idiot is still alive.

The ignored headache flares with a vengeance after he drops his hand from Ren’s cold neck and Hux gasps. He presses a fist against his head, tries to tell himself _not now_ , now is a really bad time.

As though in response, the ground beneath them quakes ever harder and nearly throws Hux bodily onto Ren. He catches himself before he can do even more damage to the unconscious body beneath him and after briefly lamenting the ruin of his greatcoat, throws it over Ren to wrap around him. Steeling himself, Hux moves to attempt to lift Ren. The idiot is a lot heavier than he looks.

Hux curses himself for not having the foresight to bring along a medical droid, at the very least, but then again, he did not expect to find Ren in this state. Seeing the master of the Knights of Ren brought so low to such an absolute defeat is jarring.

After several attempts at lifting Ren, which Hux is almost certain is not doing the still-dripping wound in his side any favors, Hux nearly gives up. Compounded with the pain and loud clamoring in his head and swelling panic, Hux can barely see straight and contemplates leaving Ren to die on the dying planet. But Hux has an objective. _Retrieve Kylo Ren._

He tries again to lift Ren and feels the prone body stir against him. A sharp stab of pain pierces through his right eye and he nearly drops Ren in his agony. He resolutely ignores it and fights for control. Ren groans and straightens a little and Hux is vaguely thankful that he no longer has to carry an unconscious (and _heavy_ ) body all the way back to the waiting shuttle nearly half a kilometer back.

By some miracle, they make it back to Ren’s command shuttle. Hux nearly collapses as he half drags and half carries Ren on board. He leaves Ren prone on the floor of the cargo area and lets the ship’s med-droid get to work as he stumbles to the cockpit. The planet heaves again and the shuttle nearly collapses as he watches the ground open into an enormous growing crack a short distance away.

Hux takes half a second to take a deep breath and steel his nerves. He hasn’t flown a shuttle since he was a lieutenant and he needs a minute to reorient himself with the controls panel.

He enters the takeoff sequence and hastily straps himself into the pilot’s seat. His takeoff is sloppy and probably too fast. The force of it pushes Hux hard against the back of the seat. There is more turbulence than expected but there is no time to wonder if the shuttle is damaged in his haste.

Hux spares a moment to wonder if the med-droid managed to get Ren into a stable surface before he launches the shuttle into hyperspace. He watches with growing numbness as the planet beneath him cracks open and collapses into itself before the world outside the windshield blurs and becomes first, blackness, and then dashes of streaking starlight.

The briefly forgotten headache returns with a sudden vengeance, searing like a vibrosword slashing through his cranium. Hux feels as if his head is being split open. The last thing he hears before darkness pulls him unwillingly under is Ren screaming in the cargo hold.

*

You're screaming. Your throat is raw and painful and blood drips down your chin in thick red swaths. Everything _hurts._

Everything is dark but you know this place. This is Snoke’s holo chamber in your fallen Starkiller. This place no longer exists.

There is a low laugh, deep and cruel. _Snoke_. You would know that laugh, that voice anywhere. It's the one you first heard as a child. The voice that ripped Ben from you. The voice that took everything from you and gave you a taste of everything and that’s not enough. It won’t ever be enough for the price you paid.

You’re grown now. You've held the galaxy in your hands, tasted all the power it can offer and you will not cower before this old wretch on his crumbling throne.

You will stand, dignified, even as your knees threaten to buckle and the weight of worlds rest upon your shoulders. You will face down this old monster and you will win.

You are always so brave in your dreams.

He laughs again as though he knows your thoughts.

“Come,” he booms, and it's not to you. A flash of red light, the crackling thrum of unstable plasma.

“Your final test,” Snoke intones, a hint of glee shadowing his solemnity. _Sadistic old degenerate_ . “I have allowed this for far too long. You have grown weak. Shed this pathetic liability that is your so-called _bond_ ,” he spits this with disgust. “Kill your general, _Kylo Ren._ Destroy the last pathetic remains of Ben Solo.”

Ren steps out from the shadows before you. His eyes are covered by the shadow of his hood and the saber in his hand does little to illuminate his face.

You're staring at this unfamiliar version of Ren– this is the most fear you've felt in a long time.

You're frozen in place. You cannot move even as you try, desperately. You feet are heavy and your arms leaden. Your mouth is clamped shut, you cannot even yell. You’re afraid. The swell of fear is overwhelming, choking out your other senses but you can be strong still.

_You will not cower in fear. You will not beg._

And suddenly you can't breathe. Invisible hands are closing around your throat, choking off your air and you're clawing desperately at the fingers that don't exist. The edges of your vision are greying.

You're dying.

Sorrowful wide eyes reflecting the red of his saber peer down at you beneath the hood as Ren advances closer.

_Ben._

A flash of red and a scream.

*

Hux startles awake and blinks up at a dark cockpit ceiling, his heart hammering. He hastily unsnaps the safety belt strapped uncomfortably tight across his torso and leans over to duck his head between his knees. He gasps heaving breaths as though his airways are choked shut and he tries desperately to calm himself. Hux struggles to breathe shallow breaths. His hands are shaking where he grips his knees as he tries to regulate his breathing. Hux runs a quick self-analysis: still whole. Still breathing (too hard. His brain is overly flooded with oxygen. _Calm down_ ). The ever-present headache has been reduced to a dull throb in the back of his skull. Manageable.

A dream. _Just a dream._ The first he's had in years. But simply that– a dream. _Not real._

He struggles to remember the details of the dream but they slip away quicker than he can grasp onto them until he barely remembers it at all. The only thing he remembers is that Ren was in the dream.

_Ren._

He should check on Ren.

Hux takes a quick look around the cockpit and it is only then that he realizes that not only is the ship not in hyperspace; it is not moving at all. The view outside the main viewport is silent unfamiliar space and the cockpit is oppressively silent. Everything is dark and offline, lit by a faint red glow. The panel next to the manual pilot controls blink in a steady red: _fuel low– 18 percent_. Hux realizes with a lurch in his stomach that threatens to bring up what little food he's consumed in the past several days his own negligence at not engaging a systems check in his panic to get off of Starkiller.

He rushes over to the single working panel of controls. Life support. Good. The life support still appears to be functioning, or they would've suffocated to death long before Hux woke. He runs his fingers frantically over the control panel and they shake as he tries to pull up the navi system. It does not go online and he has to force himself to remain calm.

_Steady breaths. Assess the situation. Find a solution._

Hux has no idea of their location. The last he knows, they were heading towards the Snoke’s coordinates and with a quick glance at his chrono, they’ve gone maybe eight hours in hyperspace. That leaves them in the middle between the Outer Rim and the Unknown Regions. It's the farthest stretch of logic Hux can manage at the moment.

Suddenly the dark cockpit feels overwhelmingly claustrophobic and Hux wonders numbly if he is in shock. It's getting steadily harder to breathe even though he knows there is still oxygen, 47 percent left, going by the readout. More than enough, he tells himself.

More than enough for what? To last long enough to fly on impulse thrusters to the nearest planet? What planet systems are they currently near? Even if they manage to fly to a planet, then what? Surely, the First Order will know they are missing and send a search. They just need to survive until they are rescued.

_Steady breaths. Assess the situation. Find a solution_ . Hux repeats this mantra to himself until his breathing stabilizes to some facsimile of steady. _Check on Ren,_ he amends as soon as he remembers that Ren is injured and possibly still laying on the floor of the cargo hold.

Hux stumbles to the rear of the shuttle on unsteady legs and growing nausea in search of Ren. His stomach lurches again when he sees the state of the cargo hold.

The rear bulkhead is cracked and crushed. The inner layer of durasteel is caved in on itself like crumpled paper and oddly singed on the open edges, something Hux files away in his head to check closer at a later time. He spots the med-droid in the corner, crushed beneath a chunk of fallen bulkhead: beyond repair. The lights are out but he can make out large shapes with the faint red glow from the emergency lights.

He spots Ren in the right corner, seemingly no more scathed than his original state. Hux tells himself the unclenching of the vise in his chest is not relief– simply confirmation that if Ren was dead, he most likely would've felt it.

That is when Hux realizes the cargo hold damage was inflicted by Ren. It is likely that Ren had lost control of himself in his pain and delirium and nearly crushed the shuttle with the Force. Hux supposes he should be thankful that Ren only managed to peel down the innermost layer of the hull and left most of it intact, save the cargo hold area. Stars help him but Ren's tenuous grasp on the Force could've killed them both.

He watches as Ren struggles to sit up before walking over to help. The med-droid had removed Ren's outer robes and shirt to access the wound on his side but Hux's ruined greatcoat is still wrapped loosely around Ren's legs. It seems as though the dermal regenerator was about halfway done with regenerating Ren's skin when Ren lost control. The regenerator is nowhere to be seen but while the wound is still raw and open, but it is not as large as it was to have created the puddle of blood left in the snow on Starkiller. The center is a mass of congealed blood that, at the very least is no longer actively bleeding. The edges of the wound are already scarred over, raised bumps of pink flesh. While it all looks painful, Hux estimates that it is manageable and Ren will simply have to be more disciplined about his need for theatrics and tighten his control on his volatile mood.

Which from such close proximity, Hux can feel his anxiety, confusion, and peripheral pain. Hux takes quick inventory of Ren's other wounds and feels his stomach sink ever lower when he spots the other wound in Ren's shoulder, one he hadn't even noticed when he found him in the snow.

It is nearly as wide as the wound on his side and Hux is almost certain it is just as deep, a jagged burnt gash that matches the one on Ren's face. At the very least, the shoulder wound appears cauterized– lightsaber wound then. Likely given to Ren by that Force-sensitive scavenger and once again, Hux feels secondhand humiliation for Ren. He runs inquisitive fingers over the edge of the wound and watches as Ren shudders before his wrist is halted in a tight grip.

“Don't,” Ren rasps, his voice cracked from disuse and likely raw from screaming. “I'm fine.”

It takes every ounce of self control for Hux not to roll his eyes and snap at Ren. He settles for an exasperated huff. How typical, of course Ren is full of ridiculous unfounded bravado even in the face of grave injury.

Hux looks at the wound again. Although he is no expert, even to his untrained eye it looks deep enough to have injured tendon. He wonders if Ren can even move that arm anymore, much less without excruciating agony. It is Ren's right arm, his dominant side. It is one thing to be able to swing it in adrenaline-fueled bloodlust but another thing altogether to move it once the endorphins taper off and the pain sets in.

Hux glares down at Ren who is still sprawled on the cargo hold floor. Ren returns his look with a grimace and attempts to sit up further. As expected, his right shoulder collapses as he tries to put weight on it.

“Come, Ren,” Hux says, a little harsher than intended. “Don't be childish. You're in no state of any definition of ‘fine.’”

With a sigh, Hux leans down to help Ren up. Ren scrambles to his feet on unsteady legs, teetering precariously and leans most of his weight on Hux. Ren pulls the greatcoat over his shoulders with a wince. Hux does not even have the heart to make snide remarks at him as he supports him to the cockpit and tips him not ungently into the copilot’s seat.

Hux sits heavily in the opposite seat and tries very hard to think. He does not know their current location and it is dangerous to attempt to navigate the ship with such low fuel levels. However, it is also dangerous to float around in empty space, waiting for rescue while the life support dwindles down their remaining fuel. In the worst case scenario, they would be intercepted by the enemy before the First Order can reach them. They have no weapons, save for the unstable lightsaber Ren cannot currently use and the First Order issue blaster strapped to his own thigh that is almost entirely decorative. He checks the charges left in the blaster: five, and the battery pack: 23 percent. He moves around the cockpit and back into the cargo hold to check for anything that can be of use and returns with a bundle of field rations what would last them approximately one solar month and an extra blaster clip.

Hux looks warily at the console again; 42 percent oxygen level. When a vague sort of panic creeps in, he tamps it down and ignores it in favor of logic and analytics. Even at 42 percent oxygen, it should be enough for approximately nine days, while they sit waiting for their rescue. Hux grits his teeth. It aggravates him to be forced to remain stagnant to wait upon others. Ideally, they would refuel the ship. They need some sort of plan, a form of communication with the Order. He needs to calculate how much fuel it would take to get to the nearest planetary system.

Hux looks over again at Ren to reevaluate his state and passes over a couple of pain-tabs, some of the last of his precious stash, even as his own headache slices across his skull. He ignores it and glares Ren down until he swallows the pills.

Neither of them speak, the silence stretching. Hux detests small talk and refuses to cave to the pressure of making conversation. He is just as content looking off into the void outside the viewport and he's almost lost in thought again when–

“You realize that if the Order finds us, it will not be to rescue us to safety, General,” Ren says so softly Hux almost doesn't hear him.

“Yes, I'm aware,” Hux replies and doesn't tell Ren that he would welcome whatever punishment Snoke hinted towards. This is to be his reward for Starkiller: oblivion and peace. The screams in his head will finally be silenced. It would not be so bad and Ren need not worry, “I am likely to be made into an example in a public execution. Something extravagant, I would hope,” he pauses with a humorless laugh. “Propaganda to prevent future failures of the ilk. It is what I would've done, too. I highly doubt your master would forsake you though, Ren. Your punishment would not be so nearly severe as mine. After all, you are… _indispensable_.”

“Yes,” Ren says, voice soft. “I would be your executioner.” He says it as though that would be punishment worse than death.

Hux laughs, the sound tinged with hysteria. “Of course, Ren, I would expect nothing less,” he says cruelly. Something like sadness flickers across Ren's otherwise blank expression and Hux sneers. “Would you not have taken great pleasure in my execution, Ren? You've slaughtered many, your hands just as red as mine. Wouldn't it feel so _good_ to further stain your hands, this time with my blood?” By the end, Hux's voice has risen to nearly shrill hysteria. Hux feels exhausted and weakened, the headache a building thrum in his temple that pulses white-hot pain.

Ren does not say anything for a long time. When he finally speaks, it takes Hux a moment to understand him. It sounds as though it is physically difficult for Ren to speak the words. “My father would take me with him on deep space trips when I was a young child.”

The change in subject is so abrupt and irrelevant, Hux is unable to hold back his loud snort of derision. “I cannot imagine you as a child,” he does not say how Ren still often acts like one. He cannot imagine how his tantrums may have been then. “I had assumed you were born this big and beastly.”

It's the first time Hux hears Ren laugh. It sounds rusted and grating, something Ren does not seem to do often, something he may have forgotten how to do, and Hux understands that innately. They are not jovial men, it is not something either of their positions afford. “Not always so big and beastly,” Ren replies and turns his head to look at Hux. There's a hint of something else in his eyes that Hux cannot read, something Ren is guarding close. “I was a child once too but those were my fondest memories of childhood. I don't have very many of those.”

Hux is unsure as to why exactly Ren is choosing to tell him these things now. He supposes it's fairly harmless and Ren seems to have quite a bit on his mind at the moment. “Children are often cruel,” he divulges. “Childhood is not an easy thing to survive.”

Ren gives him a long look. “Yes, childhood is much more survivable with a companion,” he says softly and Hux is suddenly uncomfortable. He does not want to be reminded of Ben, not now.

“Where is your father now, Ren?” he asks instead and he immediately regrets the question when his headache nearly overwhelms him with a wave of _sadnessangerregretsorrowgriefhatred_. He gasps at the onslaught and feels it acutely when Ren pulls his emotions back into a tighter grip, leaving him feeling empty.

“My father is dead,” Ren says and he looks as though he no longer wants to speak of the subject. He burrows himself in Hux's greatcoat and appears much smaller than his usual hulking frame. “I killed him,” he continues, inflectionless, “today.”

Hux stares. That must mean it had happened not long after Starkiller was fired but he didn't feel Ren at that time. Surely, he would've felt something if the emotions Ren is struggling to contain now are any estimate of the scope of what Ren must be feeling. “You killed your father,” he repeats and almost regrets it when he sees Ren wince. When did the sadistic pleasure of gouding Ren become empathy for his sorrow?

“My master was questioning my loyalty to the dark side. I thought killing my father would strengthen my resolve. I thought it would make me stronger. Instead, I am filled with regret. Killing my father opened my eyes to many things. I will not make the same mistake again, to be so easily manipulated.”

Unbidden, Hux sees a flash of what must've been a young Ren with his father on their freighter, a decrepit rickety thing. Old and well loved. Ren must've been four years old at most, dark haired and colt limbed and he looks so much like Hux's Ben. He's sitting on his father’s lap, pretending to steer the ship. His father is laughing and delighted, telling him how proud he is, he'll be a great smuggler when he grows up, just like his old man. The flash of memory leaves Hux feeling cold and sad as though Ren's sorrow was contagious.

Hux laughs darkly and turns away in his seat. He should be feeling disdain for Ren's weakness. Instead, he is also weak enough to feel this bastardized mix of empathy and echoing grief. He's made his own sacrifices too for the dark. It's the price of power and they're not things he can ever take back.


	2. Chapter 2

It's been twenty-four hours and thirty-two minutes since they've left the  _ Finalizer.  _

Hux found a cracked data pad on his fifth trip pacing between cockpit and cargo. It does not turn on so he takes it apart piece by piece, lays them across the dead consoles and tries to figure out how to fix it. It is almost soothing, this methodical disassembling of an object– it reminds him of the blasters he would reassemble back on the  _ Finalizer  _ when he is unable to sleep. His time aboard his ship felt like a lifetime ago, and there it is: Ren's perchance for drama must be rubbing off on him already. But if Hux's intuitions are in any way accurate, he is unlikely to see his ship ever again. 

He spends hours looking over the individual pieces of the data pad, looking for the damage and finds none save for the crack in the screen. He frowns down at the parts. That should not be the hindrance in the pad’s operation. Everything  _ should _ be working and he assembles and disassembles the pad over and over and still it does not turn on, to his mounting frustration. 

Ren is sitting in the copilot’s chair watching silently. His eyes track Hux's every movement but he says nothing, something Hux is glad for. He does not need Ren's commentary or otherwise. He can feel Ren's gaze and every twitch, something that should bother him immensely, this acute awareness of another person. Instead Hux finds it calming to have Ren in this close proximity, something he's never felt on the  _ Finalizer.  _ Rather, when they were on the star destroyer, Ren's presence has been vexing at best and oftentimes made him feel as though there were creatures crawling under his skin. Ren had annoyed him and unsettled him in equal measure. It does not escape him how much that has changed in a seemingly short period of time. 

Hux very nearly sweeps the pile of data pad parts off the consoles in a fit of frustration when by the eighth time he reassembles it, it is still not functioning. To prevent himself from smashing the pieces, he carefully lays them aside to try again later. 

He chokes down a portion of nutripaste claiming to be grilled bantha flavored and forces Ren to do the same. Stars know how long it's been since they've both eaten. They need to keep their energy up, for whatever there is to come. 

Hux reclines his seat and watches the stars aimlessly, trying very hard not to think of how his life is currently spiraling out of his normally tight-fisted control. Everything he's worked so hard for is gone and suddenly, he's left stranded in deep space with no communications and no guarantees that his own people will even come for him. Even if they did come, it is only to deliver him to a fate worse than his current predicament. But it is useless to hark upon things out of his control. His focus should be to repair the data pad and find a way to land the shuttle on a habituated planet. 

Sixteen percent fuel, 39 percent oxygen. thirty-eight hours. Hux sighs and closes his eyes.

He doesn't realize he's fallen asleep until he startles awake, the second time in so many hours, and finds Ren looming over him. Ren was shaking him awake and his hands fall away when Hux sits up with a groan. 

“You were dreaming,” Ren tells him, no hint of mockery in his voice. 

“I don't remember my dream,” Hux admits. Ren moves away with a guilty look and Hux is immediately wary. “What have you done to my head, Ren?” he asks, voice calmer than he feels. 

“You were in pain,” Ren replies, still not looking at him. 

“What did you  _ do _ ?” 

Ren sighs, sounding and looking very much like a petulant child. “You were in pain. So I… I dispersed the dream.” As though it was really something so simple. 

Hux stares at him, unsure of what to say. He's sure there's more that Ren is not saying but he's still exhausted and drained and the headache is still there and he simply  _ cannot deal _ . “Stay out of my head, Ren,” he says. He has no other words for Ren. He's afraid that once he starts talking, he will be unable to stop the hysterical rambling of Ren's faults. 

Ren leans back in his seat, his face expressionless. The gash on his face shines red beneath the harsh lighting and Ren is holding a hand against his side. He's still draped in Hux’s greatcoat, wrapped around his torso like a blanket. Hux doesn't think about how his coat is surely ruined beyond hope. 

He turns away to ignore Ren and looks out the viewport. They're still drifting along a stretch of unfamiliar space. The pace is excruciatingly slow and they do not appear to be near any planetary systems. He glances at the consoles again, foolish hope against hope, unbidden. Fuel level is at 12 percent and oxygen level is at 36 percent. 

_ Steady breaths. Assess the situation. Find a solution.  _

Hux feels something akin to claustrophobia creeping under his skin. The oxygen reserve levels are dwindling faster than he estimated for and he begins to feel the edge of panic creeping into his normally organized and tightly controlled mind. He will not succumb to Ren's brand of theatrics. 

They've been drifting in space for forty hours and twenty-eight minutes now. Their estimated trip to the Citadel had been ten hours in hyperspace. Surely, the Order must know by now something has happened and would likely be tracking their location to find them. They just need to wait. Hux is certain Troopers are on their way now to rescue them. But it will not be a rescue. He is flying– no, drifting to his certain death. Just as Snoke predicted and knew he would. The general of the  _ Finalizer _ , a docile coward who may just as well raise his own blaster to his head and pull the trigger. He is to be executed in disgrace anyway. 

Hux reminds himself this is what he wants, this is his prize for everything he's had to do. Death and oblivion are things he's longed for for so long, he's unsure of the last time he truly expected to survive after Starkiller. He's unsure what to do with himself should he survive. The screams in his head that's multiplied to the count of billions will never be silenced so long as he lives and they grow louder by the day, minute, second. It is his daily torture and agony, the price Snoke ensures he pays for every life taken by his hand. No, oblivion would finally mean peace. He can give Snoke what he wants, his own head on a silver platter so he can finally– go. He can be with Ben. 

The searing headache Hux thought was gone suddenly makes itself known again. He is unable to control the hand that moves up to press against his temple. The pain swells until Hux has to forcibly hold back a scream. He is almost certain his teeth bites through the flesh of his lip when the taste of copper floods his mouth.

“You’re in pain,” Ren observes, which is absolutely absurd, Hux thinks hysterically. He’s not the one who was previously bleeding out in the cargo hold.

“An astute observation,” Hux snaps. His hands are shaking as he swallows another handful of pain-tabs from his pocket. Ren watches him warily and Hux does not offer him any. “Are you about to gloat? If you are, you can go fuck yourself, Ren.”

“What?– No–” He falls silent at Hux’s glare. 

"I can help you with the headaches," Ren tells him after a long beat of silence. 

It is below Hux to deny the help when a pragmatic solution presents itself, if he can call Ren’s ridiculous magic tricks  _ pragmatic _ . He’s almost desperate enough to not think about that. The headaches have gone beyond anything pain meds can fix anymore; they do little to nothing to assuage the constant pain in his head. 

Hux turns towards Ren and quirks an expectant brow in answer. 

"Come here," Ren says, reaching forward. His expression is unreadable. 

Hux wants to ask  _ why _ . He's seen Ren perform his tricks from across the room. He's not so certain he wants to be so close to Ren, not at this moment when he feels so vulnerable and flayed open. He finally acquiesces at the searing presence of a fresh stab of pain. 

Hux leans forward as Ren presses his hand against his temple, thumb tucked next to his eye and fingers splayed along the side of his head. Hux stares as Ren’s eyes close and Hux feels Ren delving into his mind– an awkward feeling. It feels as though Ren is pushing the layers of his mind apart and reaching into its depths with his own consciousness. Like a phantom hand reaching into his skull. He feels Ren poking and prodding at the different parts of his mind, trying to find the source of the headaches. It's not exactly painful but it does not feel pleasant either. 

Hux feels as though he's laid bare and he's truly at Ren's mercy. He's certain that Ren can see and take whatever he pleases as Hux sits silent like a fool, his deepest consciousness and memories on display. He almost regrets letting Ren do this. The headaches weren't so unbearable as reason to let Ren read his mind like a data pad. 

Hux shudders and balks, attempts to push Ren out. Ren places his other hand on the other side of Hux's face to hold him still and leans in until their foreheads are touching and closes his eyes. Hux continues to stare, his panic slipping into bewilderment. 

“Calm your mind,” Ren tells him, voice oddly soft. “I am only looking for the source of your pain. I will not read anything you wish to keep from me. I swear it.”

Hux tries very hard to believe him. He tries to concentrate on nothing at all as Ren resumes sifting through his mind. He stares at the bridge of Ren's nose, follows the curves of his cheekbones, counts the moles dotting his face and tries very hard not to feel awkward. 

He feels Ren pushing ever deeper and he can only take Ren at his word to not read his secrets. He knows with sharp clarity when Ren finds the source of the headaches. The pain is white hot and near intolerable. The last time Hux has felt such agony was when he lost– Ben. Hux is certain the loud, near-inhuman cries he hears in the peripherals of his consciousness are his own. 

The center of the pain burns hot like a ball of flames, a small sun in the center of Hux's mind. There are cracks running along the surface of the sun beneath the flames, and they spread ever wider as the pain intensifies. It looks like his dying Starkiller when it was finally consumed by the force it was trying to contain. It burns and it hurts. 

Hux feels a secondary presence wrap around the tiny sun. It shields him from the heat and pain and the moment of contact is the most ataractic he's ever felt. The presence begins to erect what can only be described as a mental wall around the small sun. Hux attempts to reach out with his own consciousness, tentative and unsure of how it all works but he feels it acutely when he finally makes contact. He finds the presence achingly familiar, as though it's something he's known most of his life. 

_ Ben _ ?

Of course not. Ben is long dead, if he ever existed at all. A figment of imagination conjured by his pathetic, young mind when Hux was a child. Ben’s presence was pure, light and beautiful and so blindingly bright. This presence cannot possibly be him. It is bright too, although bright in its darkness. It swirls deep black, the kind of black that will eat entire galaxies and consumes light. It burns with a center of bright light beneath the darkness, as though it is a black hole consuming a constellation of stars. Hux realizes with a jolt who the presence is– Ren. 

He finally comes back to the present reality when Ren gently pulls away, and Hux feels a keen loss when the swirling blackness withdraws too. 

A wall is left around the nova in his head and it effectively shields the crux of agony that causes his headaches. Hux is almost grateful to be able to hear his thoughts again without the underscore of the throbs and aches that usually ring in the hollows of his head. Even the screams that perpetually vibrate through his mind are quieted. It feels almost  _ blissful, _ this unfamiliar silence.

Hux did not know he could have this kind of peace in his head, euphoric and quiet. He wishes fervently this could be something he can keep. Maybe he could, if he could survive Snoke. 

As Hux examines the wall left behind, it begins to crack and splinter until it crumbles into nothingness and Hux feels the brunt of the excruciating pains again. He's screaming, tries to stop the pathetic cries as Ren’s hands lock his head into a tight hold once again. 

This time, the walls do not work; they crumble faster than Ren can erect them. Hux feels as though his head is cracked open. His thoughts and memories tumble out without reason or order and he's in excruciating pain but he still attempts to stem the flow of memories. He desperately tries to hide them from Ren but it doesn’t work these are not for him to see these are not for anyone else to see these secrets he’s kept to himself for so long the deepest darkest parts of him the only things he has left to call his own these memories no  _ don’t _ – 

_ … You're seven and you meet Ben for the first time. He only exists in your head but you don't know that yet. He’s a warm presence in your mind, bright like the glow of starlight. He's the only friend you have. You can tell him anything and he’ll make you feel as though everything will all be alright. Nothing can harm you with Ben there. Because Ben– he feels so real. He feels like light and warmth and home. He feels like you'll never have to be alone again.  _

_ … You're ten and you just started classes at the Academy. The other children look upon you with disgust and hatred and jealousy. You’ll never be a part of them, even if you wanted to; they would never accept you. You’re so lonely there but it doesn’t matter. You’re going to use that feeling and turn it into ambition and drive because the Commandant will make you work the hardest to earn his approval. He will not be accused of nepotism on your behalf. You're not to call him father at the Academy. You will strive to make him proud.  _

_ … You’re twelve and you feel like you’re being torn apart. Your classmates are so cruel and you vow one day that they will all die by your hand as you’re once again shoved into dark lockers and left for hours in the suffocating black. You grow to hate the darkness, intolerant of the black voids that make you feel as though you can’t breathe. The only time you can tolerate the dark is when you’re with Ben in dreams. You’re only safe with Ben but Ben is changing, he’s different now and you worry and wonder but Ben will not say and it’ll be fine, you think, so long as Ben is there. So long as Ben is there, you don’t need to fear and together you and Ben will grow up and one day lay low entire worlds for one another.  _

_ … You're thirteen and your parents are dead. Killed by Rebels on Coruscant. You’re sad, but not for them, not for your distant parents who did little to raise you. You’re sad because what are you to do now? You have no one to turn to. You wish desperately for Ben to be real just so you won't feel so alone. But Ben is pulling away more constantly and you find yourself waking and reaching for him. You feel as though you’re losing him and he’s slipping away and you wish desperately for him to stay even as he changes because you know that doesn’t matter. No matter how Ben changes, he’s still light and warmth and home.  _

_ … You're fourteen when  _ he  _ comes for you. He tears Ben from you and makes you wish you could die. Where Ben once resided in your mind, there is now nothing. The void is black and cold and you remember why you hated the dark. You’ve forgotten this type of loneliness until it becomes everything you know. But then  _ he _ offers you power and the world at your feet. There is a price. It is your soul should you succeed, and your life should you fail. But it's an offer you cannot refuse, not when there isn't any choice to do so. You'll suffer it and one day when you have the galaxy, you will crush him beneath your boot. For you. For Ben.  _

_ … You’re twenty and it’s the first time you’ve ever been on a spaceship. Space is vast and cold and dark and so beautiful. For the first time in a long time, you don’t fear the darkness, even without Ben. You lose yourself in your work and climb the ranks. You’ll be commander soon, it’s been promised. You work so hard and it’s all for a singular goal. It comes to you one day, an idea. It will make you a destroyer of worlds, like you and Ben once planned in dreams, when you were children and promised each other that you would destroy those that once made you feel sadangrymiserableweak. You name it Starkiller.  _

_ … You're twenty-nine and you find yourself in command of a Star Destroyer. General. They're letting you build Starkiller. You would use it to destroy worlds, your dark poetic litany, a tribute to Ben, the boy that never was. It will swallow the sun and remit its glory in a destructive ray of power.  _ He  _ has raised you so high and one day, you will bring him so low. You will savor every moment when it comes. You only hope that maybe then, your mind can finally be quieted. _

_ … You're thirty and you meet Kylo Ren. it is hate at first sight. He is insolent and volatile and you're not sure how to deal with him. He always manages to get under your skin and you're so certain you cannot stand him. But even you can admit your admiration for the power he wields. You feel him staring when he thinks you don't notice and you're tempted– so tempted to reach out and see what he can offer. You want to ask everything of him. You're not sure he would refuse. That thought terrifies you more than you can explain.  _

_ … You're thirty-two and the screams of the billions you've annihilated echo in your head. You had everything to gain but now everything is gone.  _

Hux feels it when Ren wraps his consciousness around him once more, a dark cloak that shrouds and calms his turbulent thoughts. There's a whisper of  _ I'm here, Aeden, I'm right here _ ,  _ not everything is gone, _ and Hux thinks it's from Ren but he doesn't understand. He must be finally going mad. 

_ No,  _ comes the answer.  _ You're not going mad. I would not let you. I'm here. You'll always be safe with me. I'm right here, Aeden.  _

Ben. 

No, everything feels like a cruel trick. Hux doesn’t want this– Ben is long dead. Ben was never real to begin with. He was always just a dream, a silly indulgence borne of a lonely childhood. Why is Ren bringing him back, to dangle before Hux like a terrible remuneration? Ren cannot possibly be his bright, kind Ben. 

Hux gets feedback that feels like crackling electricity and Ren’s mind pressing against his. Ren lets him in, uncloaks the darkness and Hux sees  _ everything.  _

_ … He's seven and he meets Aeden for the first time. Aeden is unlike any of his other peers. Aeden is guileless and bright and he's drawn closer and closer to Arden until he can no longer leave. Aeden is like the sun and he’s stuck in his orbit. Aeden makes him brave and unafraid of the dark that constantly threatens to overwhelm him. He knows there’s darkness inside of him, something his parents refuse to acknowledge. He knows there’s a part of him that is bad and it makes his parents afraid but Aeden makes him feel as though everything would be okay. Aeden keeps the darkness at bay. He latches on tightly and vows to never let go.  _

_ … He's ten and his parents are always away. His mother cannot stop running off to fight wars that will never end. His father cannot stop running to get away from them both. His parents both fear him and they whisper about him when they think he’s not listening, but he knows. He knows that they’re afraid of what he will become so they do the only thing they can think of. They leave him with uncle Luke while they run in opposite directions of the galaxy. He hates them for it. The darkness he once feared is now a friend in his loneliness. _

_ … He's thirteen and the voice begins whispering to him. It whispers softly, promises of power and belonging and infinite possibilities. He's the progeny of the great Sith Lord Vader. He’s destined to finish what Vader started. He's destined to be great and this voice. This voice can lead him to greatness. The galaxy will one day fear him and he can be with Aeden finally, and they can be great together. He’ll never have to be apart from Aeden ever again. He needs only to accept the voice’s teachings and embrace the darkness. It sounds too good to be true. _

_ … He's fourteen and his Master comes for him. He pays the hefty price in the blood of padawans to join his Master. He's shaking with regret but his Master is merciful, his Master is kind. He will allow this momentary weakness. But when Master turns on his bond with Aeden, he cries and begs to spare Aeden, let him have just this. He’s not sure he will survive without this. Master laughs, but Master is merciful, Master is kind. He will let him keep Aeden but Aeden will not know him. Master warns that one day, Aeden will no longer be his to keep.  _

_ … He’s twenty and he feels as though he’s dying. His Master is brutal with his training and lessons but he knows it’s for his own good. His Master knows what is best for him and he will do his best to make Master proud. He does not think of the price he’s paid and lives he’s taken to take his place in Master’s Citadel and he knows, one day, everything will be worth it. He believes everything Master says, everything except for one thing– Aeden is his, he will have Aeden, no matter what. Aeden will finally be his to keep when he is strong enough. _

_ … He's twenty-nine and the first phase of his training is complete. Master gives him a repertoire of knights and entrusts him with important missions. Master says he's done well, he's proud of his progress. Master says he will one day surpass Darth Vader. He feels something akin to joy for the first time in fifteen years.  _

_ … He's thirty and he finally sees Aeden again. He feels Aeden everyday, his bright mind tangled tightly with his own but it's the first time he sees Aeden in the flesh. Aeden’s person is as bright as his mind: shockingly red hair and pale white skin. He cannot stop staring. Aeden does not know him but he doesn't mind. It is enough just to be close to him, for now.  _

_ … He's thirty-two and he can hear Aeden’s mind. Something is wrong. Aeden’s mind is splintering and there's nothing he can do to hold it together. He's scared, truly scared, for the first time in a long time. Now that he has this again, he's not going to lose him. Not even Master will get in his way.  _

Hux is gasping from the onslaught of Ren's cacophonous mind. He doesn't know what to do with the information he sees even as Ren wraps his presence tightly around the glowing sunspot of agony and leaves a part of himself behind in Hux's head to shield him from the pain. 

Hux doesn't even realize his eyes have closed during the– whatever this is. He blinks his eyes open to find them wet with tears and he hastily wipes them away, even though Ren does not comment. Hux runs a self analysis and to his relief, Ren's tricks worked and the pressure of his headaches are absent for the first time in months. 

He pushes away from Ren as soon as he is able and stares at this stranger, someone he barely knows. He is somehow the one whose loss Hux has spent most of his life mourning. Hux is suddenly angry. He is absolutely _ livid.  _

He's absolutely livid at himself, for being naive enough to play into whatever  _ game _ this is for Ren and Snoke. He's livid at Snoke for doing this to him, for making him into a pawn in his grand scheme. He's livid at Ren for keeping this from him, for playing him the fool. He wants to dig his fingers into Ren's new scar to hear him scream. But he doesn't. He folds his hands tightly together and takes steady breaths to calm his racing heart rate as Ren watches silently across the console. 

“This has to be a joke of cosmic proportions,” Hux says quietly and notes Ren's flinch with sadistic satisfaction. 

“Aeden–” Ren attempts to protest and Hux cuts him off harshly. 

“Do  _ not  _ call me that,” Hux spits, the anger edging into his voice and sharpens his words into cruel blades. He means for every syllable to cut. “I am  _ not _ your Aeden and you are  _ not  _ my Ben. We are not children anymore,  _ Lord Ren. _ That part of me is long gone and you can have your master to thank for that _.  _ I'm done with being played for the fool. I'm done with these  _ games _ you and your master love so much.” He pauses for breath. The edges of his eyes prickle with the burn of unshed tears. He will not let them fall. He's spent a lifetime crying for  _ Ben _ and he refuses to do so for a second longer. “I’ve spent  _ years _ thinking you were taken from me and this turns out to just be some powerplay in whatever ridiculous universe you and your master occupy. 

“Trust me,  _ Ren, _ ” Hux continues quietly, “regardless of whether or not you'll continue to follow your master,  _ I  _ will make him pay for what he's done to us. You can either keep kneeling before him or wake up and realize what Snoke truly is. How can you still believe him to be anything but a selfish monster after what he’s done this to us? I, for one, refuse to bend to this wretch ever again.” Hux is heaving for breath by the time he is done and there is an echo of the blocked headache resurging. 

Ren scrambles to his feet and across the console to kneel in front of Hux. Hux is taken aback and almost shoves him away. He's not sure what to do with this dramatic display. Ren pauses for a long moment before he speaks. Hux almost rolls his eyes–  _ dramatic _ .

“Okay,” Ren says. When he finally looks up at Hux, Hux is taken aback by the emotion reflected in his ridiculous eyes. Ren looks sad and regretful and Hux feels an answering pang somewhere in his chest that threatens to squeeze the breath from his lungs. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Hux repeats quietly, feeling drained and heavy with emotions he doesn’t want to acknowledge at the moment. That simple word is somehow enough, for now. And now is not the time to deal with heavy emotions of years past. “We need to get off the ship,” Hux says when he can find his voice again. It sounds hoarse. “We need to know where we are and where to go from here. But right now, I need some space to think, Ren.”

Hux spends the next several hours staying as far away from Ren as he can. Which is unfortunately, not very far at all. The farthest he is able to get without exiting the cockpit is to sit at the rear bulkhead, his back against the cargo hold doors, sprawled on the floor. Which is cold and hard and none too comfortable. He ignores the feeling and ignores Ren trying to prod into his head again. Ren is checking on him. It's something he feels acutely and he's unsure if Ren means for him to feel it but he tries his best to not think of anything at all to prevent Ren from delving too deep. 

Hux needs to push aside his whirlwind thoughts. He refuses to think about everything Ren just selfishly unloaded on him. He does not have the energy to process and analyze it all. The only source of distraction he has is the broken data pad. He works mulishly at it until he realizes, of course it's not turning on. The battery is dead. 

He throws the dead power pack into the bulkhead with a loud cry that sounds inhuman even to his own ears. The accumulated frustration is overwhelming and to his undying shame, Hux feels hot pinpricks at his eyes. He's so shocked by the unfamiliar feeling, it takes him a moment to realize they are tears and by that point, it's too late. They're already streaming down his face in hot, burning lines and the more he swipes at them, the more they flow. Another sound tears its way out of his throat. 

He doesn't realize his body is shaking with sobs until Ren folds around him, an enormous warm presence that nearly engulfs him. Hux feels himself shaking against Ren's stillness and he raises his hands to push Ren away only for them to tremble weakly against the great brute’s immovable chest. He feels him pressing against his mind again and this time, he feels too weak to even attempt to stop Ren so he lets him in, feels his mind opening to Ren's overwhelmingly gentle probe. 

The feeling of Ren in his mind again is achingly familiar and it hurts all the more to know exactly why. It is also soothing at the same time. Much to Hux's annoyance he calms under the gentle warmth in his head and relaxes in small measures until he feels drained and limp. His legs are going numb; he ignores them and leans into Ren. He presses his face into the hollow of his throat, bared where the coat had slipped. 

Ren feels warm and alive. The presence in Hux’s head recedes until there is only the starlight dark Ren left to protect what he had called their bond.

"Why did you have to come back  _ now _ ?" Hux mumbles into Ren's neck. He's so tired. Even the steady embers of rage he keeps burning deep within him feel cold and extinguished and he feels so  _ empty _ . He is so absolutely destroyed by this revelation. He hates himself for allowing Ren to have this magnitude of effect on him. “Why did you come back?” 

“I never left,” Ren replies, a soft rumble. “I was always here.” His arms tighten. Hux feels so small wrapped in his enormous presence, physically as well as in his head where they're joined. Hux doesn't have the energy to hate him for it. He leans in and closes his eyes. 

*

Sixty-four hours. 

They’re still sprawled together on the floor of the cockpit. Hux’s legs feel numb but he feels warm where Ren is wrapped around him. He may have drifted off for a while during the long stretch of silence as they sat deep in their own thoughts. He comes back slowly when he feels  rumbling vibrations against his cheek.

Ren is speaking. Hux doesn't even notice until Ren pauses mid-sentence and he's sure his voice sounds mulish when he snaps, “what is it, Ren?” Hux tilts his head up to glare at him. He was comfortable. Ren is ruining it.

Ren gives him an unamused look. “I was asking,” he says with no small amount of petulance in his tone, “you really did not think I was real?”

Hux is so surprised by the question, out of seemingly nowhere, it startles a laugh out of him. He pushes away from Ren, who unwinds his arms reluctantly, to sit across from him. He looks at Ren who now looks taken aback and  _ hurt _ and Hux feels a small trickle of regret for his reflexive reaction. 

“Is it so surprising that I did?” Hux asks in lieu of an actual answer. 

“Is it so surprising that I'm real?” The petulance returns to Ren's tone. 

Hux is unsure who's the one feeling nervous. The feeling filters through his mind, unfettered and overwhelming and he's not sure how to react to this question. Somehow it feels important. It feels as though he's standing at the precipice of something and he's equally afraid to step forwards into the black as he is afraid to retreat backwards to supposed safety. He swallows thickly. He's tired of being a coward. 

“Yes,” Hux replies and tries not to regret Ren's flinch. “But of course I am. I spent my whole life believing you were imaginary so the very fact that you are– that you  _ were  _ Ben, is,” he pauses, grasps for the right word, “overwhelming, to say the least. And I am still angry,” he continues, raising his voice to speak over the answering noise of disagreement, “I am still angry. But I just need time. To think. To adjust. You cannot truly expect that I can accept this so easily after spending a majority of my life believing you were lost to me.”

“What do you need from me?” Ren asks, soft and tentative and it's the first time Hux has ever seen him uncertain. He scoots closer and Hux refrains from shoving away to put more distance between them. “I can help. I  _ want _ to help.”

“I… I don't know,” that's the only truthful answer Hux can offer. “Why didn't you tell me before?” he asks, and that's when he realizes he feels the same hurt Ren did when he questioned him. Why was this secret kept from him for so long? How can Ren expect him not to be angry with being told all of this  _ now _ , in the worst possible circumstances when he had all of that time. They spent two years on the co-commanding the  _ Finalizer _ and Ren had every chance to say something. Instead, he'd let Hux continue believing Ben was lost and left him–  _ alone _ . It should not hurt as much as it does and Hux is equally angry with himself for allowing this to hurt. This thing so wildly out of his control. He's not so sure he wants this back. 

They need a place to rest and heal and plan, that much he is sure of, but Hux is still unsure of Ren's motives. He doesn't know whether Ren is indulging Hux's madness with false visions and promises before dragging him back to Snoke or if he's manipulating Hux's thoughts and– Hux scowls. Or perhaps he's telling the truth, something that terrifies Hux more than the other options combined. That he's bonded to Ren and Ren, who was once the boy Hux would've given anything to keep.

Now they're left in limbo. Hux himself is unsure of what to do. The only true options are to either find a way to return to the First Order and accept the punishment sure to come (death) or to take a gamble and foray into the unknown (possibly also death). 

Hux is still unsure of the scope of Snoke’s powers. He's always presented himself atop that hologram throne as an omnipotent entity, wise and powerful beyond understanding. He has to have some scope of Force power. After all, he  _ is  _ training Ren in the Force, so much as Hux knows. He just isn't sure how far those powers reach. For all he is aware, Snoke can be watching them now, a test to prove their loyalty and waiting to see if Hux will fail this too and take his ascetic apprentice wayward with him. 

Ren said they were bonded. Maybe he was never able to hide his thoughts from Ren at all. If that nova in his head was their bond, it was what was hurting him the most, magnifying the emotions and pains of those around him, especially Ren's emotions. It had grown until everything became overwhelming and without any Force sensitivity, Hux was left to deal with it on his own devices. Which had meant not being able to deal with it at all. No wonder he thought he was going mad. He sees the reflecting pain in Ren's face. He must've heard Hux's thoughts so there is no purpose in hiding them now. 

“It was never my intention to let that hurt you,” Ren says earnestly. “I wasn't able to do anything about it because I could not touch the bond.”

Hux is perplexed. “Why not? I've seen you perform your tricks from across a distance before. Why couldn't you have fixed me?”

Ren winces and looks away. “It's not so simple,” he mumbles and refuses to say any more on the matter. 

“And what now?” Hux asks, angry again. “Now that you're back in my head again– what now? Am I expected to forgive you for two decades of this– this ridiculous  _ situation _ and expect to trust you again? What do you  _ want _ from me, Ren?” He's nearly shouting, he realizes belatedly. 

Ren is silent when he reaches over the short distance separating them to pull Hux closer. “This,” he replies. “This is all I want. Just to be close to you again.”

The feeling of being dragged under Ren's emotions overwhelms Hux. It's an powerful rush of  _ regretsorrowlonginglossangersadness  _ and something else Hux is unsure how to define. He feels his grip on his own lifelong anger faltering in the face of everything. Somewhere deep down where Aeden still exists wants this too. That part of him is elated he's found Ben but Hux remembers and has to remind himself– they are no longer those children. He's no longer Aeden and Ren is not Ben. This is not something they can have– this enormous bond between them that cannot be contained.

This was why they were torn apart in the first place. 

This was what Snoke never understood and therefore hated. Something he wanted to strip from his apprentice, to teach him a lesson. It was the thing standing in Snoke’s way that prevented him from ever fully controlling Ren, Hux realizes. 

He tucks that realization away, pushes it deep so Ren won't see it before he can fully analyze it. 

“Fine,” Hux sighs, leaning into Ren again. This is fine. He can allow himself to have this one small thing. For now. 

Hux feels torn between wanting to stay as far away from Ren as possible while at the same time, wanting to cut him open and crawl into his skin. He feels Ren sharply in his mind, no longer an intrusive presence but a warm weighted thing in the back of his head. Comforting, almost.

They stay wrapped in each other’s arms for a long time, staring out at the viewport as they drift in space. Hux still doesn’t know what to do about their current situation but he’s too exhausted to try to think of any solutions, especially when there are none that come to mind. He doesn’t see how he can magically rig a shuttle low on fuel to ignore its level readings and hack into the hyperdrive. The most likely result of that would be their imminent death in which they blow apart in hyperspace.

It is useless to attempt to think strategically when his mind is refusing to focus. Instead. 

“What were the odds that we found each other in this vast galaxy?” His eyelids feel heavy and his mind heavy but he is unable to sleep, sprawled as they are on the hard floor of the shuttle. But neither of them are willing to get up. 

“Very, very lucky ones,” Ren breathes, his tone hushed and reverent. “When I was my uncle’s pupil, he always told me that we’re all connected through the Force. We're all connected to one another and all other living things.”

Hux snorts. “What a romantic notion.” He doesn't tell Ren that where he grew up in Arkanis, there are legends and tales his nanny used to tell him from a long time ago about things she called soulmates. She had often spun great tales of lovers who would always find each other in every lifetime because their souls were bound to one another, never to be parted, not even in death. But Hux has long since grown out of such silly childish stories. He does not believe them, but he inexplicably does not hate the idea that he and Ren are similarly connected by the Force. He's sure Ren knows this though, can read it from him. Hux can feel the bond thrum with contentment. 

“If we were always linked this way, why did I not feel you for so long?” Hux asks, unable to help himself, breaking the fragile peaceful quiet. 

“I have some theories on that. I've always felt you. You were always bright in my mind,” Ren says, voice still hushed. “It may simply be harder for you to feel me when we were so far from each other. It would have been harder for you to sense me since you are not Force-sensitive.”

Hux frowns. “We were planets apart when we were children but I was able to feel you then. I didn't think you were real though. I always thought I'd just imagined you.”

Ren sniffs. He's offended. “Maybe we were just more receptive to each other when we were children.”

Hux shakes his head. “No, it felt different then. When we were children, you did not feel real. You always felt like a dream. But now,” he struggles for the words. He waves a hand dismissively, tries for nonchalant, “now you feel real,” he finishes lamely. “Like the link between us feels solid somehow. As if it's an actual entity instead of something vague and dreamlike as it felt before. Maybe it is our physical proximity. Maybe that helped strengthen it. But when I stopped feeling you in my head, I had felt as though– as though I had lost you. Like you were ripped out of my head, away from me.”

“It's possible that Snoke may have blocked your side of the bond when I started my training.”

“But why?” Hux asks, feeling angry all over again. The anger builds until it dissipates his calm and contentment, and he feels Ren pressing against the bond as though to reassure him. 

“He always felt you were a distraction,” Ren replies. “He always felt as though I could never give myself fully to the dark side when I am so attached to you.”

His comment, spoken with infuriating calm nearly throws Hux into a full blown rage. He pushes against Ren's arms, wanting nothing more than to get away from him. He hates Ren. He hates that he let Snoke do this to them in the name of power, promised with false lies. He struggles against Ren's tightening arms until he admits defeat. He would never be able to best Ren in a physical match of strength like this. All of a sudden, he feels drained and all there is left is smoldering rage that burns like embers in his chest. 

“I hate him,” Hux says tiredly, finally admitting that his hatred is not for Ren, but for Snoke who tried to tear Ren away from him. “I hate him so much. One day, I will see him dead for what he did.”

“I know. One day, I will bring you his head,” Ren promises, a darkness creeping into his voice. 

Hux laughs, joyless. Ren curls tighter around him and Hux clings back, digging his fingers into Ren's chest until bright red half-moons form on his skin. Ren doesn't complain and doesn't let go. 

Hux burrows deeper against Ren and tries not to think at all. If they really were to die, at least the screams in his head are finally silenced–  _ no _ . He refuses to die now, not after everything. Not after finding Ben. But Ben truly is gone and in his place is volatile, feral, dark Ren, who is the opposite of his Ben and for the first time, Hux feels…  _ fine _ with no longer having Ben. He’s slowly adjusting to having Ren instead and he finds that Ren is much more his equal than Ben ever could have been.

After all, he’s no longer Aeden. They are not those children anymore. Ben and Aeden would never have survived what they have. And now Hux is determined to survive this too, now that he has  _ Ren  _ back. He just has to figure out how.

*

Eighty-seven hours and twenty-eight minutes. 

Hux has finally given hope on the idea that the First Order is coming to rescue them. They would have arrived long before this if they had any intention of coming. It's been nearly four days since they've been stranded in deep space and Hux is equal parts relieved and afraid that there is no rescue. 

Hux does not truly think Snoke would abandon his pupil so easily. Hux, yes. Hux is disposable but he would hunt Ren to the ends of the galaxy to hold onto his power. So no. There must be something more to why Snoke is seemingly uncaring at this point. Hux has no clue as to what that something may be and he does not want to raise the point to Ren. 

Ren, who has grown quieter as the hours pass, is staring blankly out of the viewports. It is not until he ignores Hux's third offering of food that Hux realizes something is very wrong. At first, Hux assumed Ren was simply being difficult, as he is often wont to do. It's been over twenty hours since their last meal of flavored nutripaste and even Hux can no longer deny the gnaws of hunger in his stomach. 

He helps himself to a nutrition bar and offers a second to Ren several times to no response when he finally takes a good look at Ren. Ren is even more sickly pale than before and Hux feels a responding vise tighten in his empty stomach. He tossed aside the bar and kneels down next to Ren. His skin is fever hot and clammy to the touch and his hand is clamped tight against his side. The wound. 

Hux's stomach lurches and threatens to bring up the meager contents of his stomach when he pulls back the fabric of his greatcoat. The wound in Ren's side is bleeding again, a sluggish but steady trickle. The skin around the wound is red and raw and it is likely infected. Without the med-droid or the regenerator, Hux is at a loss as to what to do. 

He takes the last two pain-meds from his pocket and forces Ren to take them with a gulp of water and Hux hopes that it will be enough to keep the fever at bay. Until when? The Order clearly is not coming after so many hours and there is nothing he can do for Ren. 

Hux goes back to the cargo hold: a futile trip. The med-droid is still broken and the regenerator is still nowhere to be found. He finds a couple of meagre packs of field dressing and carries it back to Ren. Hux kneels down on trembling legs to sit behind Ren and pull him against his chest to reach the wound. He packs the wound as best as he can with shaking hands and tries to quell his rising panic.

Ren is still quiet and feels far too feverish for Hux’s liking. He’s burning up and the pain-tabs do not seem to be doing anything to fight the fever. Hux feels like he’s on the verge of losing something important as Ren slips into unconsciousness, becomes unresponsive. He feels as though he wants to throw up and scream at the same time. He holds on tighter, pulling Ren flush against his chest and tips his head back against the viewport.

_ Think _ . He needs to think. 

_ Steady breaths. Assess the situation. Find a solution. _

Nothing comes. Hux’s mind is completely blank save for the panic and the panic gets in the way of his logical thinking. The panic clogs up his mind, makes him feel as though he’s drowning in his fears and since when did Ren become important enough for him to panic over? It should not matter to him whether or not Ren survives. But somehow. Now that he knows about their so-called bond. 

The bond filters through slowly as Ren loses consciousness and Hux feels it pressing painfully against his head once more. It’s much more bearable than before Ren built the dark swirling wall around it but it still sears Hux’s head now. It throbs, reminding him constantly of Ren’s presence in his arms. Hux tells himself this is fine. He just needs to think of something. A solution out of this. Maybe he can rig the hyperdrive. Jump the impulse drive to land in the nearest planet with no navigation and barely any fuel. If only he can think of something, he can save them both. Ren will not die like this, not after everything. This is pathetic.

Hux is reduced to this emotionally irrational idiot incapable of logical thought alongside of Ren and he’s not even sure if he hates himself or if he hates Ren more for doing this to him. Full of useless notions of impossible and dangerous plans, each more ridiculous than he last. So much for his brilliant tactical strategic mind. Rendered completely useless in the face of a dire situation. 

_ Pathetic pathetic pathetic _ , he thinks as he tightens his arms. Ren sighs a suddering breath as though in reply and the bond burns like a brand. Hux finds himself drifting in and out with Ren, unsure if Ren’s hold on their connection is pulling him under too.

Ninety-nine hours and ten minutes. Fuel level is at eight percent and oxygen level is at 24 percent. 

_ Steady breaths. Assess the situation. Find a solution.  _

Nothing comes to mind.

Hux snaps awake suddenly and painfully when he feels the ship lurching forward at a speed it is currently incapable of attaining without impulse drive. His mind feels at the possibilities as to why the ship is moving. He looks at the dash again. Fuel level is at four percent and oxygen level is at 20 percent. There is no possibility the ship is moving on its own. That must mean–

The ship lurches to a sudden and violent stop and Hux nearly collapses on top of Ren. He looks behind him at the viewport and there is nothing but black nothingness staring back. There is no expanse of stars or nebulae or space, just black. 

His head jerks up when he hears a commotion outside the ship, a clanging, then a loud screech and soft light filters through the widening crack of the shuttle hatch. Hux realizes with nauseating clarity that they've been caught in a tractor beam and they're currently in some kind of freighter. They're about to be boarded. By who? The First Order? Pirates? The Resistance? Or worse?

Hux crouches low over Ren and pulls the blaster from his thigh, flicks off the safety and keeps his finger on the trigger. It'll be damned if he would go down without a fight. They will have to drag him kicking and screaming to his grave while he does his best to take them with him– whoever they are. 

The hatch raises all the way and Hux doesn't hesitate to shoot at the first person to step through the threshold. The body drops with a loud thud before he's quickly surrounded by a hodge-podge of military greys and greens with an appalling array of ridiculous looking leather jackets and vests. Hux curses and keeps his blaster raised. 

From amongst the group of fighters surrounding him, Hux recognizes one of them– the pilot Ren tortured for information and from behind him steps a small figure. She’s dressed in the same military greens and browns as her fighters, her hair pulled back in an elaborate style that looks like a crown atop her head. She should not be intimidating; she barely stands any taller than the pilot’s chin but she radiates an aura of absolute authority and holds herself with the regal grace of someone born to power. There is an irreparable sadness in her eyes but there is also steel and enviable strength. Hux would be admiring of her composure in any other situation but now, he sneers at her. She also feels like– something else. Hux can feel her in his head.

She's a Force wielder like Ren, he quickly realizes. Maybe she doesn't have the extent of his powers but she can certainly handle the Force in her own way.  

Hux knows exactly who she is. He's heard of her for a long time, in whispers amongst the Order as the mastermind behind the Resistance movement. And he feels her acutely in his head, as her eyes narrow when her mental probe comes upon his bond with Ren. He pushes her out as much as he is able and stares defiantly up at her, arms locked tight across Ren's chest. 

“General Organa,” he greets, his tone dripping with sarcasm. 

“General Hux,” she replies and the soft smile she gives him makes his insides grow cold. 


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing they do is separate him from Ren at blaster-point and take his blaster and clip away. They also confiscate Ren's lightsaber, something Hux feels irrationally angry about, much more so than their removal of his blaster. Hux bares his teeth at them in a snarl as they disentangle his limbs from Ren, numb and stiff from where they've held tight. The feeling building in his chest is feral and dark. He tries very hard to maintain his calm. He's too proud to show this weakness to his enemies. He must hold onto his composure.  _ Deep breaths. Calm.  _

And then they take Ren away. 

Hux very nearly lunges at them when they put Ren on a hover-stretcher and wheel him away. It takes four fighters and Organa stepping in front of him to stop him in his propulsion forwards. He glares up at her and bares his teeth, feeling barely sane. He struggles for calm to no avail. He feels the bond stretching and growing faint as they cart Ren away. 

“Where are you taking him?” Hux demands. 

Organa looks at him blandly, her expression inscrutable. “Why are you so worried about him?” she asks softly, tilting her head assessingly. 

Hux ignores her question. “Where are you taking him?” he snarls again, louder. He can feel her trying to probe into his head again and he thinks of the impenetrable wall. 

Organa smiles softly and withdraws from his mind. “He is in safe hands, General. He will not come to harm, I can promise you that.” 

Hux doesn't believe her. He struggles against the fighters holding him back and tries to lunge again only to be stopped forcefully. He finally stills when he sees the pilot point a blaster at his head out of the corner of his eye. 

“I suggest you calm yourself, General,” Organa says sharply and Hux turns back to glare at her. “I can assure you your– companion is safe and you the same if you will remain calm and not attempt anything reckless.” Hux very nearly does not catch her hesitation over words when she referred to Ren but he takes note and holds onto that tidbit of information. Any and every thing can eventually prove to be useful in enemy hands. 

Hux huffs out a breath and slowly releases the tension in his shoulders while the fighters restraining him cuff him in binders. They lead him off of Ren's debilitated ship and onto the docking bay of an enormous freighter. Hux sees a fleet of X-wings docked in a row; he counts nearly a dozen. Huh. He had thought they had taken out quite a chunk of their fleet on Starkiller. Maybe they have more firepower than First Order intelligence knew. 

The halls of the freighter are long and winding, standard durasteel bulkheads and stark lights. Hux is marched through those halls and he feels the members of the Resistance staring. What a sight he must make: nearly a week’s worth of stubble on his sunken cheeks, no coat to obscure his narrow shoulders, his hands bound behind his back, and escorted by a group of four fighters, the pilot, and Organa. He holds his head high and his back ramrod straight. He will not show fear in the midst of his enemies. 

Hux is pushed into a room furnished with only a table and two chairs. The left wall is dark transparisteel, obscuring what is most likely another room where the inhabitants of this one can be observed. How droll. It's as though the Resistance took the design and function of the interrogation room straight out of old holovids. Unoriginal. 

Not that it matters when he's led to the chair directly facing the transparisteel and the pilot’s hand firmly guides him into the seat. Hux grits his teeth. How dare this pilot scum touch him. He drops reluctantly into the seat and watches as Organa signals at the transparisteel before taking the seat opposite him. 

“Please leave us,” she orders the rest of the fighters left in the room. The pilot hesitates for a moment, looking warily at Hux before ducking his head and leaving with the rest. The door swishes closed with a soft hiss and there's the undeniable sound of a lock clicking in place. 

Hux stares unblinkingly at Organa, his hands folded neatly in front of him on the tabletop and waits. She should not be an intimidating figure, he thinks. She's of small stature and has what may have once been kind eyes, hardened by her time as a general in the long-standing Galactic War. Instead, she is imposing and Hux can feel her power radiating from that small body. The Force is strong with this one. Even one who is not Force-sensitive like Hux knows it; she feels a lot like Ren in that sense. As though hearing his thoughts, the look in her eyes sharpen to the point where Hux is sure that if looks could kill, he would be dead a hundred times over. 

“What is your relationship with… Kylo Ren?” She asks. There it is again. The hesitation to speak of Ren, both in passing and by name. 

Hux is a little surprised by the question. He had been sure her first question would be to ask after First Order intel. That would certainly have been his first question had he been the one on the other side of the table. Perhaps this is her attempt at further intimidation: feinting to veil her attempts at getting whatever answers she thinks she seeks. “Where did your people take him?” Hux counters, lets the ice drip into his voice. 

“Answer the question, General,” she replies. “We will get nowhere if you choose to drive us in circles.”

Hux sneers. “Your questions are no better,  _ General _ . Is that truly your actual question? How asinine and unimportant. If you will answer  _ my _ question, we may get somewhere yet.”

Organa is not fazed. “I am not the one shackled here. You have no authority in this place. We could have shot down your shuttle. Or left you to die in your already-dead ship. You are still alive because of my mercy,” she says. It is not a threat. It is a simple matter of fact. “Please answer the question,” she repeats, her lips tightening. “What is your relationship with Kylo Ren?”

Hux is silent for a long moment. On one hand, he feels as though he's put at a disadvantage if he answers first, as though he's losing whatever game Organa is playing with him. And surely, this is at least partially a game to her. She is toying with him now. This is a play for power. But sometimes sacrifices must be made for a greater victory. “I do not have a relationship with Ren,” he finally replies, truthful. After all, they are little more than coworkers and comrades. He does not see the point in lying to her if she is indeed a Force user. 

Her eyes narrow again but she moves on to another question. “Why was your shuttle drifting along the edge of the Ryloth system?”

Hux almost laughs. They didn’t even realize they were so close to a planetary system. If he had any navigation systems online and had known maybe they had a chance of refueling, they could've risked attempting to jump the impulse drive, and–  _ too late now _ . “We ran out of fuel,” he says simply.

“What was your initial destination?”

“That’s classified. It is only a set of coordinates.”

“You will give us those coordinates.”

Hux smirks to himself and sits back against the chair. “I believe I just said my destination was classified, General.”

“You will give us those coordinates,” Organa repeats with an extra edge to her tone. Hux is tiring of this roundabout match where neither of them are getting anywhere. That extra edge in her voice compels him to blurt out the coordinates before he can catch himself. It is likely she used her own brand of Jedi voodoo on him and he curses silently, glaring at her as she types a note in her data pad. 

Hux scowls at her. “Do not so easily believe you have won already. There is much more to the First Order that you do not know about and much more you'll need to do to bring it down. You think Starkiller is a big victory for your Resistance. It is only the beginning.”

“I am well aware of that,” Organa replies. She taps her fingers on the tabletop as though contemplating something before she seems to make up her mind. “However, if your information proves to be helpful to us, it will make your time here a lot more comfortable. I am not cruel or unfair. We do not employ horrific acts like needless torture as we know the First Order does.”

Hux laughs.  _ How rich _ . “Now you've gotten three answers from me,” Hux begins, suddenly exhausted and a sharp pang from his stomach reminds him that he hadn't eaten any real food in days. “Where did you take Ren?”

She stares across the table at him for a long moment, mirroring his posture and folding her arms in front of her. He sees her visibly steel herself before she answers. “He's in the medical bay. You can trust that I will not let him come to undue harm.”

_ He can trust–  _ oh, she had gall. Hux is incensed at any ridiculous notion that he can  _ trust _ their jailers. He stares her down, his words snatched from his tongue by rage until he realizes with sharp clarity. 

_ Vague hazy memories of a woman with soft hands and hard eyes. She loved him but she didn't know how to care for him. The galaxy needed her to fight its battles, but what about him? He needed her too. He needed her so much, when the voices began whispering and she knew, of course she knew. She's just like him. They're linked by the Force. How could she be so blind to the darkness eating away at him or was she willfully ignoring it because she didn't know how to fight this battle for him?  _

_ “Oh no, Ben,” she begged for the fifth time. “Please don't cry. This is for your own good.” _

_ “But I want to stay with you and dad! Why can't  _ that  _ be for my own good?!” _

_ “I'm sorry, Ben. Your dad and I have an important mission but we'll be back soon, I promise,” and even then he knew better than to believe her promises. She sighed and wiped at his tears. “Uncle Luke will keep you safe and teach you how to be a Jedi. You do want to be a Jedi, don't you?” _

_ “Not as much as I want to be with you and dad,” he wailed.  _

_ “I'm sorry, Ben,” she repeated as if that was all she ever knew how to say. That was all she ever said but the words were meaningless when they've been said so many times. Not when she doesn't mean then and not when nothing changes when she says them. And words weren't enough, not when he needed her the most. But of course, she ignored him and ran away and kept running because the galaxy always needed her more than he did.  _

“You're his mother,” Hux rasps in disbelief, overwhelmed with memories of Ben’s  _ sadnesslonelinessresentmentabandonment _ . 

Organa stares stoically back across the table. Hux is unable to stop the near-hysterical laugh that escapes. “And you don't want anyone to know about your relationship with him. You're ashamed of your son who chose the Dark side over his family. You're ashamed of him becoming Kylo Ren. That's why you sent your people away,” he realizes out loud. 

“It is not a conversation for them,” she replies simply. “However, let's move onto the subject of you now. We know you were the one who gave the order to fire Starkiller.”

Hux smiles blandly back. He spreads his hands before him, a small shrug, and does not reply. 

"While I may try to be impartial and fair, do not believe you will be free of punishment, General," Organa tells him. Her voice is tight and leashed with an iron-fisted control that even Hux begrudgingly respects. "You will be punished for your war crimes."

Hux laughs, low and humorless. "As you say, General," he returns, derisive and insolent. "You forget your own side has killed millions upon millions as well in your campaign for 'peace'. Did you so conveniently forget the millions lost on Death Star? On Starkiller? But then, 'war crimes' are only paid by the losing side, aren't they? The victors do not have to pay retribution for their slaughter. You try to hold your hypocrisy in righteousness, General. Do not fool yourself into believing you are above us. Your hands are bloody too.”

Organa leans over the table between them. Her frame is slight but she is powerful and Hux refuses to be intimidated. 

"You would be dead already," she tells him, her voice cracking on the sharp edge of fury. Hux feels fierce satisfaction in pulling that emotion from her. "You should be dead already, were it not for my son."

Hux grins, feral and dark. "Oh, but General, your son has been long dead." ( _ I felt him die _ ). "I brought you Kylo Ren. He would lay low this place should I be harmed. He is not your son."

To Hux’s surprise, Organa smiles and returns to her seat. "He is still my son. There is little I would not have done to bring him home and I suppose I have you to thank for that, General Hux."

_ You've brought two wolves into your rabbit's den, Organa,  _ Hux doesn't say.  _ You cannot possibly hope to contain Ren when he wakes.  _

*

They're on D’Qar when Hux feels Ren wake four days later. Hux is in his new cell in the Resistance base lost in thought, trying to reorganize his mind into some semblance of structure when he feels Ren fly into a rage. He feels it as a crackle through their bond the exact moment Ren sits up gasping for breath, sending the machines around him flying into the wall and the overlooking med-droid into a beeping panic. He feels Ren's panic at the unfamiliar environment and the Force crackling in his fingertips, eager to destroy this unknown place. 

Hux is in a containment cell overwatched by two guards. The cell is simple: four walls with a narrow bunk and a toilet-sink combination console. No windows. Standard prison cell for the most part. Three of the walls are white durasteel and the last is a thick sheet of transparisteel, allowing anyone who walked by to be able to look in and gawk at him, something that grates at Hux. Not many walk by, save for a handful of guards that patrol the halls but he feels like a caged animal on display nonetheless, irritation ever present. 

When he feels Ren wake, he is laying in his bunk, trying to sleep. An impossible task now. He walks over to the transparisteel panel and taps it to get one of the guards’ attention. They ignore him. 

“I need to speak with Organa,” he declares, knowing they can hear him. They continue to ignore him, much to his annoyance until he raises his fist to pound at the panel. One of them finally turns to glare at him. “I need to speak with Organa,” he repeats. 

The one that turned to acknowledge him gives him an unamused look. “The General is not at your beck and call, prisoner.”

Hux smiles back, all sharp teeth and dangerous eyes. “She'll want to speak to me about this. Her other  _ prisoner _ is awake. I'm sure he's nearly through destroying the med-bay by now. You'll want to hurry before he destroys the rest of your base when he comes looking for me.”

The other guard has turned around as Hux was talking and the two of them share a long look before one of them reaches for her communicator. It takes nearly another hour before they get the appropriate clearance to cuff him and lead him to the med-bay. 

The med-bay is in full chaos by the time Hux arrives with his two guards. Organa is nowhere to be seen but Hux sees her personal droid tittering at Ren in a corner, clearly flustered. It's an ostentatious outdated gold thing with a replacement red arm and it is attempting to admonish Ren. Hux nearly laughs. 

Ren is in one of his full rages. His lightsaber had been confiscated when they were captured but he did not need it to wreak havoc on every object he could reach. The monitors they had attached to him are in pieces littered across the floor alongside pieces of what was previously a med-droid. The head of the wrecked droid still beeps helplessly in a corner as Ren stomps across the room, naked save for black shorts, bellowing in wordless rage. 

“Master Ben–” Organa’s droid is attempting to say before Ren stomps up to it and the droid smartly quiets. Miraculously, Ren does not tear that old thing apart. 

Ren leans into the droid, pushing it against the bulkhead he had torn nearly in two with the Force. “Where is he?” he snarls into the droid’s face. 

The droid titters helplessly before it looks beyond the bulk of Ren's shoulder and spots Hux with his two stunned guards standing in the doorway. Ren follows its line of attention and Hux thinks he might've gotten whiplash with the speed his head spins around when he spots Hux. The guards beside him immediately tense and grip their blasters, one of them already on his communicator calling for assistance. Ren yanks the communicator out of his hand with the Force and crushes it in midair before flinging it aside.

The guard previously holding the communicator yelps in surprise as his partner raises her blaster. Hux turns his head slightly to glare. “Don't,” he commands. 

Suddenly Hux finds himself enfolded in Ren's enormous arms and he lets his amusement and exasperation be known. He pushes at Ren slightly and looks up to glare at him but unable to stop his lips from quirking at the corners. 

“You're fucking ridiculous, Ren,” he admonishes, no bite in his words. “You just can't control yourself, can you? Now they've got half the base waiting outside this room now with blasters raised.”

“I don't care,” Ren replies, his voice still a hoarse rasp from disuse. “I'll kill them all if I have to.”

Hux rolls his eyes and pushes Ren away. “I see your incapacitation had no affect on your affinity for drama. We will most certainly not kill them all. Be calm. Do you even know where we are?”

“It doesn't matter where we–” the way Ren stiffens and abruptly falls silent would be humorous if Hux doesn't also feel the residual  _ feardreadanxiety  _ that slams into him like a freighter. And then Ren shuts down like he's trying to lock down on his emotions. He refuses to turn even when Hux prods at him. 

He realizes exactly why when he looks towards the still-open doors. General Organa is standing at the threshold with her own set of guards, mouth set in a thin line and sadness in her eyes. 

“Ben,” she calls softly from where she stands and makes no attempt to step into the room. 

Ren ignores her and pulls at him again. He keeps his back to her as he moves to stands in front of Hux. “We're leaving.”

“I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Ben,” Organa says. 

Ren snarls under his breath and hunches his shoulders into himself. He pulls Hux against him as though he's going to protect him with his own body and refuses to respond to Organa. Hux feels the anxiety radiating from him and it's all he can do to keep Ren focused with some facsimile of calm. 

Hux reaches up to grip Ren by the back of his neck. He sighs. “Stop this,” he commands in a low whisper. “Stop this nonsense. It is getting us nowhere. It will not benefit anyone for you to start killing and slashing right now, not with all of these Resistance members waiting just outside. Remember, we have no weapons,” he says, not thinking about the fact that Ren is a living breathing weapon all on his own. He rushes on before he's interrupted, ignoring Organa's curious looks. “Even with your frankly  _ ridiculous  _ ability to handle a beating and survive  _ bowcaster shots _ , you're in no state to fight your way through this.” 

Hux glances up to make sure Ren is really paying attention, seeks out his eyes and forces him to look back. Ren's eyes, when he finally looks back at Hux, are softer than the situation should warrant. Hux doesn't think about that. He lowers his voice further and presses his lips against Ren's ear. At such close proximity, he does not miss it when a full-body shudder travels down Ren's spine. “Listen to me. I will find us a way out of here, soon. But right now you have to trust me. I need time and you need to heal. It will not serve you to fight your mother right now.” Ren startles at his words and Hux smirks. 

“Yes I know about that, you great child,” he says. “Now be  _ good _ .” He plants a chaste kiss on Ren's cheek and taking advantage of his surprise, steps out of the circle of Ren's arms and raises his own above his head. “General Organa,” Hux begins, “I have a proposition.”

*

Ren is released from the med-bay after another perfunctory check-up, performed by a nervously beeping med-droid that keeps sneaking wary glances at its decapitated twin. The wound in his side is nearly entirely healed. It is now a mass of pink scar tissue, grisly and gnarled but much better than it was previously. Ren had refused to let them touch the gash across his face; it remains a long red slash that nearly bisects his face from forehead to chin. But that too is also nearly healed. The wound in his shoulder however, is an entirely different story. 

It is still a mess of twisted and singed flesh, congealed around a new surgical scar. The arm would need to be strapped and kept immobile while it heals and the tendons repair. Hux will have to see to it that Ren does not overuse that side, a task easier said than done, as Ren is wont to do whatever he wants. Especially when he actually refuses to allow his arm to be strapped. 

When Hux had walked away from Ren in the med-bay with his arms raised, Ren's mind had nearly shrieked with panic. It rose in volume until it was so loud, it started to become a new headache for Hux. The mix of his panic and anxiety filtering through their bond was so strong, it nearly made him nauseous to feel it second hand. He could hear him in his head trying to to force him to return to his side. He ignored him. He could feel Ren's intense stare burning holes in his back. 

“General Organa,” Hux had said, “I have a proposition.” He had made up his mind in the moment when Ren woke exactly where his loyalties were going to lie. 

She had turned to him appraisingly and Hux was certain that she could read it from him that he was truthful in being willing to uphold his end of whatever proposition he was about to make. She sent her people away, save for the outdated hospitality droid that continued to fuss over Ren. It was a strange act of something close to kindness; something Hux refused to admit he was grateful for. He would not have to grovel with an audience. 

“What is your proposition?” Organa asked calmly, regal even when surrounded by the pile of destruction rendered by her volatile son. 

“Symbiosis,” Hux said simply. “In exchange for amnesty and asylum from the First Order, which I'm sure you're aware has named me traitor by now, I will offer you sensitive information. I've seen from your guards when they sneak onto the holonet whilst supposedly guarding my cell mine and Ren's bounty. It's not a small amount. We're wanted across the galaxy now that we were named traitors by Snoke. I know Ren is to be taken back alive. However,” he tried for nonchalance, “the Order no longer cares for my wellbeing. So, you can say my decision is already made for me. I have no loyalty to an organization that is not loyal to me. I believe the specific holonet listing for me said ‘alive if possible, only the head if not.’”

“Oh my!” the gold droid gasped and immediately fell silent again at Ren's glare. 

“What makes you think your information is worth amnesty, General?” she asked, still infuriatingly calm. “Considering the scope of your crimes, why should the Resistance not call for your execution too?”

“It is not my information that is worth amnesty, although that too is invaluable,” Hux replied, allowing a touch of arrogance to color his voice. “It is your son that is worth amnesty. I'm his last ties to the light, whether you can believe that or not.” Here, Ren snorted in derision and Hux continued, ignoring his childish response. He would not allow Ren to ruin his plans now. “That is why our Supreme Leader wants me dead. With me alive, our bond prevents Ren from turning fully to the dark. He knows that and should I have returned to the First Order on my own, he would have had Ren execute me to sever that bond so they can complete his training.” He could feel Ren's disapproval from across the room at telling Organa all of this. He hoped that Ren could trust him enough to withhold any input that would dispute anything he was saying. 

“And who exactly is this Supreme Leader you speak of?” She asked. 

“His name is Snoke,” Hux replied. “I am but a puppet to him. Serviceable enough as a face to the Order, and to press buttons for him but he is the true force behind everything. He is the one you want. You can verify this with Ren. Snoke is his master.” Hux did not tell her that Starkiller was his design. 

“You said so yourself, General,” Hux continued. “There was little you would not do to bring your son home.” 

Hux knew he had won when he felt Organa reaching again into his head. This time, he let her, bringing the image of their bond to the forefront of his mind to obscure the secrets he wanted to keep. The bond was enough to verify at least part of his truthfulness and bright enough to eclipse his other motivations. 

When Organa finally withdrew, she leveled Ren with a long look. He turned abruptly away to avoid her gaze and pointedly ignored her. Hux could see the sadness creeping back into her eyes. 

“Officially,” she began, her voice strong and without any trace of her sorrow, “you are both under house arrest. I will speak with the council on how we will proceed. In the meanwhile, you will be provided with a room where you may both reside. You will not leave the compound of the base. You will not attempt to leave D’Qar on your own. You will abide by our laws. You will provide what information you have on the First Order.” She paused for a small moment. “And General Hux, you will wear a tracker to monitor your location. I trust I do not have to explicitly state the consequences should you choose to act against any of these stipulations.”

Hux could barely keep the smile from curving the corners of his lips. “I accept.” Ren did not reply. 

They are moved to a room at the back of the base. The new room is not a jail cell but it is also not much larger. There are two narrow beds on opposite walls and a small table between them. Two sets of plainclothes are neatly folded on each bed stop the covers, simple black pants and shirts alongside several pairs of underwear and socks. A small window overlooks what appears to be a courtyard, the glass reinforced transparisteel. The room is otherwise bare with a small adjoining refresher with a working shower, something Hux is very much relieved to find. The door is of heavy durasteel that locks from the outside and guarded at all times by pairs of two in shifts. 

Organa had reassured Ren (who had ignored her) that the guards were only there for their  _ protection _ . Hux scoffs. He's sure there are many in the Resistance who wants the Starkiller (that's what they apparently call him now) dead but he knows better. She's protecting her asset until he upholds his part of the proposition. 

The tracker is injected into Hux’s hand in the space between his thumb and forefinger, overseen by a glowering Ren. He can feel his frustration and ire filtering through the bond but Hux ignores him. He will just have to be patient and trust that everything is part of Hux’s plan. It is not as though he can list it all in detail at the moment, not with half of the Resistance base watching their every move. He is also certain that they are being monitored very closely in their room. 

Hux spends much of the next several days in meetings with Organa and a handful of Resistance high-ranking officers. He lists in detail what he knows of the First Order and feels a savage satisfaction with every word he speaks. Each secret he willingly gives is another step closer to bringing down Snoke. Oh, how he will relish the moment when he finally falls. 

During their many meetings, Hux does not bring up the injustice of having to wear the tracker when Ren essentially walks freely around the compound. He understands the reasons but he cannot help resenting them. He doubts they would be able to get a tracker into Ren without him decimating the base either way. 

For most of the day, Ren would shield his end of the bond, either to give Hux relief from his overwhelming cocktail of emotions or to keep from having to feel Organa when they speak, Hux is unsure. He's also unsure of how Ren actually spends the day. Glaring at the wall, he expects. Not straining his arm, he hopes. 

The gold droid Ren is surprisingly lenient with (only in that he hasn't already crushed it) seems to follow him around. It tuts and fusses over Ren from the times Hux has seen them and amazingly, Ren allows most of it and only tells it off in a low tone when it becomes overbearing. 

The gold droid often escorts Ren back to their room in the evenings after they've had dinner in the mess hall, alongside their two appointed guards. More often than not, Ren will shut the door in its face but once, he allowed it to tidy up the room, much to Hux’s amusement. It seems as though Ren has some measure of fondness for the outdated old thing. 

It's during one of those evenings eating dinner in the mess with the droid fussing over Ren's plate when the pilot Ren once tortured approaches Hux. Ren immediately tenses when he approaches and silences the droid with a glare. 

It is not often the Resistance members actually interact with the two of them. They usually (wisely) keep a wide berth. Hux sees a lot of their contention in glares and dirty looks as well as curiosity and confusion in equal parts. 

Hux wonders if the base knows yet that the dark brooding giant who lurks perpetually next to the Starkiller is their returned prodigal son, the man who was once Ben Solo a long long time ago. That question goes yet unanswered for him as most of the officers tend to avoid them, thanks to Ren's steely dark looks. However, those same looks do not seem to deter the pilot who had once pointed a blaster to Hux’s head when they were captured. Was that really just a week and a half ago?

The pilot is standing awkwardly in front of Hux, holding a tray in one hand and playing with his hair with the other. The constant running of his fingers over his dark hair irks Hux; it’s an annoying habit Ren shares. The pilot stares between Ren and Hux both before settling on Hux when Ren studiously avoids his eyes. 

“Poe Dameron,” the pilot says. 

Hux raises a brow loftily. “Excuse me?”

“Poe Dameron,” he repeats. “That's my name. I suppose I should– no, I don't think  _ thank you _ is the correct term but maybe– no, just. The information you're giving us. It's actually helping.”

“That  _ is _ the point, I believe,” Hux replies, unable to keep the sarcasm from his tone. 

Dameron actually  _ laughs _ . “My friend– he– you should know that when the council held a meeting about you prior to everything, had nothing bad to say about you. He always thought you were a fair leader. Harsh, but fair, he said.”

“Your friend?”

“My friend Finn,” Dameron says, brightening. 

“FN-2187,” Ren growls into his food. “The  _ traitor _ .”

To their surprise, Dameron laughs again. “If Finn is a traitor, what makes you guys then? I'm sure giving your sworn enemy military secrets is much more treasonous than defecting from a brainwashing program.” He does not say it unkindly. “But hey, we're glad for it. It's been a great help so far.”

Ren turns to bare his teeth at Dameron who answers with a soft chuckle. This guy is annoyingly jovial, it seems. He pauses a bit before he speaks again, his expression closing off for a short instance before it becomes a look of determination. 

“It's–  _ good _ to have you back, Ben.” It sounds a lot like benediction, Hux thinks with no small amount of derision for Ren. Dameron smiles, seemingly genuine and walks away before Ren can muster much more than a furious “don't  _ call me that. _ ”

Hux doesn't get to talk to Ren about Dameron until much later when they retire in their room for the night. 

“It seems as though you've been forgiven,” Hux says to Ren who lays on his cot staring at the ceiling. 

Ren snorts and doesn't even bother to deign Hux with a look. He feels the echo of Ren's annoyance and discomfort. “It doesn't matter what Dameron thinks of me. It matters even less what the traitor thinks of us.”

Hux’s lip curls. “Don't forget we're traitors now, too.”

The next evening, FN-2187 and Dameron begin to take their meals with Hux and Ren, much to Ren's displeasure.  

*

They’ve been on D’Qar for nearly two weeks before Organa actually speaks with Ren. Hux is unsure if it’s because she thinks she’s giving him space to readjust to being part of the Resistance again or if she herself had needed time to come to terms that in eighteen years since she’s last seen her son, he’s become a murderer, his last victim being her husband and his own father. 

Ren always shadows Hux to his interrogations turned strategy meetings. He often stands in the back while Hux parlays his information on the First Order to Organa and her command. During one such meeting, Organa requests that they remain after the other commanders leave.

Hux stays in his seat at the conference table, looking up expectantly at Organa after the others leave but her focus is not on him. It’s one of the first times she openly acknowledges Ren outside of the sad looks she often gives him when she thinks Ren isn’t looking.

Organa looks up at Ren, who is leaning against the wall behind Hux and beckons him to sit. With a quick wary look in her direction, he does as requested, unfolding his long body from the wall and walks over to take a seat. He chooses the chair diagonally across from Organa, next to Hux and passes a hand along his shoulder as he takes his seat. He drops heavily into the chair, still silent and not looking at Organa. 

Hux feels his emotions clearly, trepidation and anxiety whirling in circles in Ren’s head. Ren does not want to have this conversation, not about his father, not about Organa, not about what he’s done in the name of Snoke, not about his return. He does not want his mother’s grief and sorrow. He wants her forgiveness even less. Ren knows he does not deserve anything of the sort. He does not deserve the benediction of her absolution. So he does not want to talk about this, not when he’s so unsure of where this conversation will end. But for better or for worse, Organa seems intent on having it, judging by the look of determination on her face.

Organa sighs and begins, “Ben–”

“No,” Ren cuts her off, an edge of anger in his tone. “I am no longer that boy. Ben is dead.”

The look on Organa’s face is stricken and sorrowful. It’s the most expression Hux has seen her display thus far. He feels as though he should be gloating and glad of her plight, but instead, inexplicably, he feels empathetic. Afterall, he’s been through this very same loss too. He too has lost Ben. 

She’s crestfallen as she tries again, “Kylo–” 

Ren shakes his head at this name too. “That was the name my former master gave me, when he manipulated me into joining him. I am no longer that person either.” 

“What shall I call you then?”

“You may call me Ren. That is the truest name I can go by now.”

“Ren,” Organa repeats, rolling the name over her tongue. The look in her eyes is slightly less sad, a shade less haunted when she realizes Ren is finally willing to speak to her, however coldly. “I–,” she pauses as though unsure of how to continue, “I am glad you’re back,” she finally says. She’s looking directly at Ren who finally brings himself to hold her gaze for a handful of seconds before he ducks his head again.

“You might not be saying that if you know all that I’ve done,” Ren replies, speaking to the table. Hux discretely braces a hand against Ren’s forearm under the able. He tries to communicate his support as best as he can, knowing Ren needs it. 

Organa is shaking her head, her sorrow creasing her face and shadowing her eyes. She suddenly looks old beyond her age. “I know enough, Ren. It does not change my gladness for having you back.”

Ren is getting angry again.  _ She’s always doing this, this refusal to listen _ . “Do you know what I did on Starkiller? Do you know who I  _ killed?! _ ” he yells. “Do you realize what I’ve done in the name of my master?”

Organa gets up from her seat to circle around the table and stops in front of Ren. Hux tightens his grip on his arm, squeezing once, twice before letting go and pulling his arm away. Organa stands before Ren, barely two feet away but does not touch, grief rolling off of her in waves, palpable enough that even Hux feels it in a two way echo from how Ren perceives his mother’s emotions.

“I know, Ren,” she whispers. Tears are now streaking down her face but her voice is still steady. “I know what you’ve had to do. But all of that does not matter in this moment. It does not change my gladness for having my son back,” she repeats. She drops to her knees in front of Ren and reaches forward to touch his face. He flinches away but she’s persistent, reaching again.

Ren does not move away this time and lets her press her palm against his face. His shoulders are shaking and Hux realizes Ren is crying too. There are damp tracks on his face that Organa gently wipes away before she pulls him into a tight embrace.

Organa doesn't say anything, doesn't offer forgiveness, not for what Ren has done in the name of Snoke, not for the murder of her husband. She simply holds him tightly, knowing that Ren doesn't believe he deserves forgiveness and she's not ready to forgive. She will not offer false hollow words, not when they could break Ren forever. So instead, she holds onto her son as he cries against her. 

“I’m a monster,” he gasps into her shoulder. “I killed him. I killed  _ them _ . There are so many– so many of them. I am beyond saving.”

Organa shushes him gently and strokes her hand through his hair. Despite her small stature and their enormous difference in height, she still somehow manages to make Ren look like a child in her arms. “The fact that you came back,” she says, her voice cracking on the last syllable, “shows that you  _ can _ be saved. You can.” She moves slightly to look at him and Ren finally meets her eyes. “You will save each other,” she says, glancing over at Hux. She folds her arms tighter around Ren as he shakes against her. 

“Thank you for bringing back my son,” she whispers.

*

Hux discovers that Ren is a restless sleeper. He often wakes in the middle of the night to the sounds of Ren shifting in bed and more often than not, he hears Ren in the throes of nightmares. Ren would whimper and groan in his sleep, a far cry from his loud wakefulness. 

Usually, Hux lets Ren work through his nightmares on his own. However, after the first week in their room on base, they seem to be getting progressively worse. 

When Hux wakes to Ren's second nightmare of the night, he lays frozen for long moments wondering if he could (should) wake him. Ren is whimpering painful cries. It's an agonizing mental litany of  _ no no no  _ and it echoes so sharply with Hux, he can almost imagine the dream too. 

He pads across the room to Ren in the dark. The only light comes from the small window; the moon outside is almost entirely obscured by a cover of clouds.

Hux stands over Ren and tries to go about the most efficient way of waking him. He nearly gets punched in the jaw when he puts a hand on his shoulder. Thankfully, after spending months sparring with Ren on the  _ Finalizer _ , he is familiar enough with his tells to dodge the fist. Even in sleep, Ren is amazingly fast. Hux does not, however, expect the other fist to come flying as well and it lands in his solar plexus, knocking the breath from his lungs. He doubles over away from the bed and is getting progressively more cross until Ren whimpers, sounding amazingly pathetic. 

Hux sighs and resolves to try again. He keeps his distance this time, moves back to his own bed. He  reaches inward for the bond, hoping maybe Ren can feel that and wake. 

Ren's presence in his head is a chaotic starlight black, whirling in turmoil. Hux is unsure of how to actually soothe him and clumsily tries to replicate what Ren did on the command shuttle for him to assuage his pain. After several attempts at trying to fold his consciousness around Ren's like an odd sort of awkward embrace, Hux nearly gives up. He's not Force-sensitive, so he cannot actually hope to do what Ren did for him, not when he has no idea how to manipulate his psyche that way. Not when he cannot even get near Ren.

He pushes as forcefully as he is able against Ren in his head, hoping that will jar him awake. It seems to work in some small measure when Ren mumbles and his eyelids flutter but he does not wake. He seems to calm slightly and Hux takes advantage of the opportunity to cross the room again and shake Ren awake. 

Ren sits up with a gasp and nearly knocks Hux over again when his head almost collides with Hux’s chin. His hands are shaking atop the covers and his chest is heaving as he gasps shallow breaths. He stares at Hux with a bewildered expression as though he's forgotten who he is and where they are and Hux tries his best to send assurances over the bond. 

_ It's fine it's me it's only a nightmare whatever horrors you were seeing are not real  _ come back _.  _

He thinks it works when recognition creeps back into Ren's eyes, glittering darkly in the dim light. 

“I'm always killing you in my dreams,” Ren whispers, his voice cracking on the last word. “He always makes me kill you, to prove my power and my loyalty.”

Hux already knows without Ren admitting aloud that these are not mere dreams, not when he's shared them once too. He remembers all too well dreaming of Ben when they were children and pulling Ben from nightmares and Ben doing the same for Aeden. More than once, he's had to pull him out of dark thoughts and darker dreams, even before Snoke ensnared Ren. 

“You won't,” he replies with a certainty he does not feel. “You won't kill me. I won't let you.”

Ren's lips quirk into a lopsided smile and he does not comment on the very real fact that should he attempt it, Hux would be no match against his strength and the Force. He says nothing and shifts over to the side of his bed, pressing his back against the wall and leaving an empty space in front of Hux. He looks up with pleading eyes but remains silent. 

Hux stares. “You enormous  _ child _ ,” he sighs and crawls into the narrow space. 

Immediately, Ren wraps an arm around his waist and clings tightly. He tucks his face into the hollow of Hux’s neck and inhales deeply. Hux doesn't have the heart to shove him away and demand his own personal space. He doesn't admit that this feels good. It feels like those final moments on the shuttle when it felt as though they were the only ones left in the galaxy, when he realized he had not only gotten Ben back, but he had gotten something–  _ someone _ so much better. 

Not that he would ever tell Ren. It would get to his head. But somehow, he suspects Ren already knows his thoughts so he surrenders and grips onto Ren's bicep like it can be an anchor and falls asleep. 

Hux wakes the next morning hanging mostly off the bed, with a crick in his neck and a furnace along his back. His legs are cold because of course, Ren is a blanket hog. How could he ever expect otherwise. He sighs deeply and regrets ever feeling compassion for Ren. He rolls over to face him and pokes him hard in the ribs until he wakes too. 

Ren's eyes blink open. They're amber in the pellucid morning light, dazed with the last vestiges of sleep as he returns to wakefulness. He stares at Hux silently and does not return his jabs. His hand is still gripped around the crest of Hux’s hip, thumb running in gentle circles along the curve of bone. Hux suddenly finds himself short of breath. He silently curses Ren for gripping him so tight. That must be it. 

They're still trapped in their hushed silence, neither one of them willing to break the fragility of the moment to return to the day ahead of them. Hux doesn't admit that being tangled up like this together– it feels  _ good _ .  _ Too good _ . 

Hux turns away first, having no desire to make anything of the maelstrom of emotions he feels echoing from Ren. He extracts himself from Ren's grip and heads for the refresher, ignoring Ren's crestfallen expression and the deep feeling of  _ disappointment _ . He's not quite sure if it's Ren's emotion or his own.


	4. Chapter 4

Ren is watching again. 

Hux feels the burn of his stare on his back as well as the intensity of his concentration in his head. Over the course of the month since its discovery, the reopened bond has recovered enough from the years of neglect to connect nearly all of their emotions. It's something Hux is trying to get accustomed to and something that aggravates him, having to feel Ren  _ all the time.  _

Hux is training in one of the base’s many gymnasiums. Organa had loosened her stipulations on Hux’s access to most areas of the base after his display of model behavior and his ability to keep Ren in check. The guards, too, are no longer such an overbearing presence. They've been limited for the most part to just guarding their door at night. 

Ren is watching from the sidelines as Hux circles his sparring opponent along the edge of the exercise mat. His arm is still not healed enough to spar but Hux had been feeling restless, having gone without exercise for over a month. They had come to the hand-to-hand combat rooms at his behest, Ren trailing behind like a dark shadow. 

Hux had chosen the largest opponent he could find. He needs the challenge, given the last person he trained with was Ren. He's sure even the man he chose, who stands several inches taller than even Ren will not be much of a match. 

Spoken too soon. 

After nearly ten minutes of circling and exchanging superficial blows, Hux feels himself arcing through the air and landing with a loud  _ thud _ on the mat below. He curses silently for letting himself get distracted by Ren shifting impatiently in the corner. He had crossed his arms over his chest, creating an impressive display of bulging bicep, all chiseled muscle and pale skin in his tank top. Hux is almost certain it's all some sort of weird posturing when he feels Ren's glee at having distracted him. 

That glee shifts mercurially into a burning pique when Hux's sparring opponent pins him full body to the mat. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ren moving to stand. He taps the mat and his opponent, some Resistance footsoldier whose name he didn't bother to learn, gets up and offers him a hand. At the twinge of annoyance emitting from Ren, he spitefully takes it and allows the soldier to haul him up and pull him far closer than necessary. 

“Good spar,” he says, amused when Hux takes an annoyed step backwards to regain his personal space. “Would–” and whatever he was going to ask is cut off by Ren's looming presence behind Hux. 

“No, he would not,” Ren replies for him as he lands a heavy hand on Hux's shoulder. “Now, go away,” he commands and the soldier nods as though in a daze and leaves. 

Hux huffs in annoyance, a habit he's been developing around Ren lately, particularly ameliorative when he does something especially childish. Such as now. “I wanted a rematch,” he says petulantly. It does not escape him that his tone sounds an awful lot like Ren. 

Ren smirks. “I'll give you a rematch.”

“That's not how rematches work, Ren.” He glares at Ren who's already stretching. “You're also not supposed to strain your arm for another week.”

“My arm feels fine.” 

“I'm not taking you back to the med-bay when you destroy the tendon again.”

“You won't. My arm is fine. It doesn't take me as long to heal as others, thanks to the Force.”

Hux rolls his eyes. “Likely excus–” Before he finishes his sentence, he finds himself tackled to the floor by Ren, who grins smugly down at him from atop his chest. 

_ Okay. It's on.  _

Hux hooks both thighs around Ren's waist in a tight clamp and with a forceful push upwards, manages to upend Ren and roll them over. He hops to his feet and puts his fists up as Ren moves to stand. “As you wish, darling,” he says and lunges while Ren is stilled stunned. 

Later that night, Ren returns sulking to the med-bay with a stiff arm. The med-droid beeps angrily at him before tossing him an ice pack, an analgesic paste and sending him away. 

“I told you not to strain your arm,” Hux scolds as he helps him apply the ointment. They're sitting on Ren's bed and he rubs the sharp smelling paste almost viciously into Ren's shoulder as he winces. He deserves the extra pain. “Now it's likely to take twice as long to he–” he's cut off suddenly when Ren grabs him by the back of the neck and crashes their lips together. Their noses bump against each other in the awkward clash of lips and teeth. 

Hux freezes for a stunned moment and by the time his brain catches on that this is  _ okay,  _ this is  _ good, _ Ren is already pulling away. There's a chagrined look on his face and he's unable to look Hux in the eye. Hux senses the dejection in his head, answers it with his own exasperation. 

“Oh, Ren,” he sighs. “Are you really this daft or are you just willfully ignorant?” 

Hux barely has to think for a moment before he's reaching to tip Ren's face back, skimming lightly on the bottom edge of that scar and pulling Ren down to meet him halfway. He projects his thoughts as loudly as he is able at Ren, a mantra of  _ want this want this yes yes yes many times yes _ . Ren sighs into the kiss and his shoulders unbunch as though in drastic relief as he grabs at Hux to bring him closer. His large hands are unsteady and unsure, grasping at Hux's hips to swing him onto his lap. 

Hux shudders at the feeling of Ren's hold on his hips; his hands are nearly large enough to span the circumference of his waist and the thought of that  _ excites  _ him to the core. He feels flushed all over as though his skin is on fire when he reaches up to pull Ren even closer, pressing against him as their lips move together. 

Ren moves back a little, halting the kiss to press small ones along the side of Hux's face and neck, reverential. “When?” he asks, his voice just on this side of husky. 

It takes Hux a moment, his mind grinding down from the overwhelming sensation of Ren's teeth against his throat and his hands pressing into the meat of his ass. “Last month, last year, twenty years ago,” he replies a little breathlessly, bucking against Ren to move even closer. “What does it matter? It  _ doesn’t _ matter. I don't know but it's always been– this way,” he chokes, not wanting to say  _ you, it's always been you.  _ “What a stupid question. I don't blow up five planets for  _ just anyone  _ who comes along, darling,” he whispers this with his lips pressed against Ren's ear, delighting in the full body shiver the words and his close proximity induces in Ren. “You like it when I call you that,” Hux says, part realization, part tease. “Don't you,  _ darling _ ? Or are you excited at the thought of me performing mass genocide in your name?”

Ren groans and shuts him up with another kiss. This kiss is slower, more of a languid exploration to learn one another than a desperate show of emotion. Hux gladly opens for Ren when he feels the tip of his tongue slide between his lips. He shivers at the sound Ren makes when he sucks at his tongue, and at the feeling of Ren's fingers digging bruises into his hips. 

They're breathing hard when they finally separate, and Hux feels as though there's a constriction in his chest, something he's been feeling more and more around Ren lately. Ren is staring back at him, pupils blown wide with a slightly disbelieving look on his face. Hux is sure the same expression is mirrored on his own face. 

Hux is overwhelmed with the urge to learn every part of Ren and their clothes feel restrictive, obscuring what he wants to see most. He pulls at Ren's tank top until he gets the hint and laughs when Ren tears it in two to get it off.  _ Ridiculous _ , he thinks fondly. He's only slightly annoyed when Ren does the same to his too. 

He pulls Ren back in for another kiss, a slick tangle of tongues. His hands can't get enough of Ren's chest, now that he's finally allowed to explore, to have this. His eyes are still closed as he runs his hand over the jut of Ren's clavicle and down the plane of his side. Ren shivers when Hux's hand traces over the scar from the bowcaster, and Hux rubs it gently before skimming across his abdomen and up again to his sternum, counting other scars along the way. 

Hux finally pulls away when the vise in his chest becomes too much; it burns like flames waiting to consume him but for once in his life, he will be reckless. He will jump headlong into those flames, so long as Ren will jump with him too. 

He only moves away enough to press his forehead against Ren's, looking up into dark liquid eyes through the haze of his lashes. Hux edges his fingertips along the curve of the scar again, pressing in where it meets the corner of Ren's lip. A hand closes over his, stilling him. Ren's eyes turn wide, pleading. 

"Don't," he whispers, an edge to his voice. 

Hux stills and understands. Ren is self conscious about the scar and what it means. He cares little for how it looks; there are other scars scattered liberally over the rest of his body. No, he wears his other scars proudly. They mean he'd taken on an opponent, strong opponents, as close to equals as he's ever gotten, for them to be able to land a hit deep enough to scar. Those are obituaries. They're badges of honor. They're rewards for survival. 

But this one. It symbolizes his defeat by the scavenger girl and his gut-roiling shame at being beaten by an untrained Force-user and to be beaten so absolutely. Furthermore, Ren is associating it with his shame of having succumbed to Snoke's manipulation, at ever being naive enough to believe Snoke's lies in the first place. 

Hux feels an overwhelming sadness as he presses a kiss to the scar. "No, Ren. This is proof. Proof that we survived Snoke."  _ That we found each other again.  _ "This," he uses his other hand to trace the length of the scar again before ending where Ren is still clasping his hand against his cheek. "This is the death of Kylo Ren and the birth of  _ my _ Ren. If you had not been on Starkiller, getting this scar, we may never have been able to escape Snoke. Or wake up enough to realize that we  _ had to  _ escape Snoke. Everything happens for a reason. Or some shit like that. Isn't that one of your Force philosophies?"

Ren quirks his lips. "Or some shit," he agrees. "It's likely some Jedi crap."

"Not that you're a Jedi."

"I'm not."

"Stars forbid. How dare I even mention the unholy Jedis in the face of my dark prince," Hux deadpans. 

Ren rolls them over in a swift motion and pins both of Hux's hands above his head. "Are you mocking your prince?"

Hux smiles insolently up at him, all teeth, pulling his hands out of Ren’s hold. "Your emperor can do as he pleases."

"Emperor," Ren repeats with a dubious quirk of his brow. " _ My _ emperor. Say, what have you conquered to earn that title?"

Hux's smile turns soft. "You."

Ren dips his head down for another kiss and the conversation is as good as over. He presses Hux into the bed as his hands trail along his bony hips. Hux reaches up to tangle his fingers in Ren's hair, pulling slightly, arching into the kiss. He lifts his legs to wrap around Ren's waist, pulling down to press their crotches together. Ren's hard cock is a long line in his trousers, hot like a brand where it meets Hux's thigh. Hux wants the pants  _ off _ , now. He moves away slightly to tug impatiently at the waistband and Ren eagerly obliges. 

Hux takes the opportunity while Ren removes his pants to push down his own and kick them away. He's already half-hard in his briefs, pre coming wetting the front of the fabric as he bucks up against the thigh Ren slips between his legs. Ren is immobile above him, staring at the way he's riding his thigh as though he's stunned and Hux reads the awe and slight trepidation projecting loudly from him. 

“Come here,” Hux says, his voice sounding slightly choked. He tugs at Ren again to bring him closer, pressing small kisses along his cheek, his nose, on each of the little moles dotting his face. 

“I'm not quite sure how– how to do all of this,” Ren says, sounding uncertain and trepidatious. He looks away as his cheeks flush but his hands are back at Hux's waist, his grip lax. 

“That's fine,” Hux replies, as gently and patiently  as he is able when his body  _ burns _ for Ren's touch. “I'll tell you what– what I like.” He closes his hands over Ren's to guide them down to his buttocks and with some encouragement, Ren kneads at the flesh as Hux rewards him with a low moan. “Mmm, that's good,” Hux tells him as he drags his clothed erection against Ren's thigh again. “But what I'd really like– I'd like to suck your dick.”

Ren's head snaps up so fast, he may have gotten whiplash. Hux smirks up at him and levels a hand against his chest to push him down on the bed so he can climb on top of Ren's legs. He pulls down Ren's briefs and his mouth waters when he finally grips Ren's cock in his hand. It's proportionate to the rest of Ren, Hux is delighted to find: huge, thick and long. He strokes languidly from root to tip, hitching his thumb against the vein on the underside of the thick cock, moving up to press against the slit as Ren bucks up off the bed with a loud groan. 

Hux shimmies down the length of Ren's body, shaking his ass a little for his benefit before settling between Ren's open thighs. He leans in close, licks along the tapered vee of his groin, pressing kisses along the skin there. He moves up to lick experimentally at the tip, delighted when Ren yelps in surprise. Ren positively  _ howls _ when Hux closes his mouth over the head, swirling his tongue into the slit. He slows to a languid pace to savor the weight of Ren's cock on his tongue, working slowly to take Ren in as deeply as possible and reaches only halfway down before he feels Ren's cock stretching his mouth almost uncomfortably full. What he can't fit into his mouth, he palms in his hand, stroking as he sucks on the parts he is able to reach. 

Ren threads his fingers into Hux's hair as he lifts his eyes up to look at Ren. Ren is  _ wrecked _ , his eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open as he gapes down at Hux, his expression still disbelieving. Hux feels a certain measure of pride for having done this to Ren. Their connection is crackling with Ren's emotions, a mixed jumble Hux is in no state to parse. Alongside the mix of emotions is the echo of Ren's pleasure as Hux sucks at his cock. 

Hux quickens his pace on the next downstroke. Ren is soon bucking up into his mouth, nearly choking him. Hux doesn't mind, delights in the feeling of Ren's cock pressing against the back of his throat. He relaxes his jaw and lets Ren fuck into his mouth. He feels everything he does to Ren as though it is happening to him too through the bond and he moans around Ren's dick, palms himself in his briefs with his free hand. 

“ _ Fuck _ , Hux,” Ren gasps when Hux presses his tongue against the vein on the underside of his dick. “Fuck, I'm going to– I'm going to–” he tries to push Hux away but he stubbornly tightens the ring of his fingers around the base of Ren's cock and hollows his cheeks to suck hard at the head. Ren comes with a wordless shout and Hux follows soon after. He tries swallows as much as he is able as he works through his own aftershocks. He pulls away after one last lick once Ren starts pushing him away when everything sharpens into oversensitivity. He sits up to grin down at Ren, runs his tongue slowly over his lips in an obscene show of trying to catch the last drops of Ren's come from the corner of his mouth. 

Ren moans again, cock twitching feebly. Hux crawls up the length of his body to descend on Ren with an open mouthed kiss, pushing his tongue into Ren's mouth so he can have a taste of himself. He brings Ren's hand to his own briefs, lets Ren pull his cock out. Ren's hand comes away covered in come and Hux pulls away to take Ren's hand in his mouth. He licks along the middle finger, slides his tongue down the length of it, cleaning the come clinging to his skin. The look in Ren's eyes is nothing short of worshipful as Hux cleans his own come off of Ren's hand, sucking his fingers like he had sucked his cock, making sure he gets every drop. 

“You're going to be the death of me,” Ren declares dramatically when Hux flops down in the narrow bed, sated and lethargic. Hux smiles and tucks his nose into the junction between Ren's neck and shoulder and falls asleep as soon as he feels Ren's arm wrap around his waist. 

Hux wakes the next morning with bright sunlight in his eyes and a warm, wet mouth on his dick. He moans, pressing his face into the pillow and lifts his legs to bracket Ren's broad shoulders as he works at his cock like a starving man. Ren may be inexperienced and lacks finesse, but he more than makes up for it with his enthusiasm. 

He wrings loud moans from Hux when he tries to emulate what Hux did the night before by sucking at the head and tonguing at the length of the vein. He reaches down to cup Hux's balls, rolls the skin between gentle fingers as he takes Hux's cock deeper in his mouth. The hand strokes down from his balls down past his perineum to circle his hole, pressing gently at the tight furl. Hux nearly bucks off the bed at the sensation. 

Ren smiles up at him through dark lashes, his mouth stretched over the girth of Hux's dick, lips red and swollen. It's all so deliciously lewd and Hux is  _ entranced _ , unable to look away from that plush mouth. He doesn't even notice when Ren somehow manages to get his hands on the jar of lotion from the refresher. The Force is useful for once. 

And then a slick finger is circling his entrance, gently pressing in as though asking for permission and Hux keens, pressing back against it. It slips in up to the first knuckle at the same moment Ren sucks hard at the head of Hux's cock. Hux moans loudly, wriggling against the finger while trying to thrust up into Ren's mouth at the same time. He wants more. Ren's finger is thick but he wants much  _ more _ . The finger thrusts in him gently, stroking along his inner wall. 

“More, Ren,” he demands. Ren obliges with another finger and Hux still wants more, wants to be stuffed full of Ren. Wants to be filled with him until he chokes on the sensation of being so full. Wants to be so close to Ren that he stops being able to feel where he ends and where Ren begins. Hux comes yelling hoarsely on three fingers and Ren swallowing around his dick.

FN-2187 and Dameron are staring at them with identical gobsmacked expressions when they finally drag themselves to the mess for breakfast. 

“ _ What _ ?” Hux demands, refusing to feel self-conscious despite the enormous mark he knows is starkly apparent on his neck. It's a giant mouth-shaped bruise, bright red against the pale white of his skin. Ren had made sure it would be noticeably above his collar when giving it to him in the refresher. 

“Nothing,” Dameron grins, the smarmy bastard. 

FN-2187 (Finn now, Hux has to remind himself. What a  _ stupid _ name) starts laughing into his ration of reconstituted powdered eggs. “Boy, do I feel bad for your guards,” he says between uncomely snorts of laughter. 

“I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about,” Hux tells him primly. Ren still hasn't said a word as he sits glowering at his tray while somehow looking enormously smug at the same time. 

“Of course not, sir,” Finn, with the stupid name, says with only a touch of sarcasm. 

Dameron turns to Finn with the biggest smile Hux has ever seen. Hux hopes his face splits in half and falls off. “Pay up,” he says, holding his hand out. 

Finn groans and rolls his eyes. “I'm pretty sure you didn't actually  _ win _ . I'm half certain they've been together since before the battle on Starkiller and if that's the case then, I'm  _ so _ glad we're not on the  _ Finalizer _ anymore. I would be owing so many people so much money.” Despite his complaints, he pulls out a credit chit from his pocket and gleefully hands it to Dameron. 

“The both of you are dead men walking,” Hux tells them. “I'm going to execute the both of you. Ren, do it.”

Ren ignores all of them and studiously works at his cereal mush while Finn and Dameron clutch at each other, howling with laughter. 

*

Hux is summoned to meet with Organa in the afternoon. She's standing at her holo projections with a map of the Taris system before her. There are strategic holos of X-Wings pinpointed to mark her fleet and another one, larger. A Star Destroyer, he realizes upon closer examination. Hux isn't sure whether to feel insulted that she doesn't think him powerful enough to eventually use her plans against her or glad that they've come far enough for her to trust him. 

She regards him coolly as he enters the war room with his pet shadow, Ren. She looks them over with a perfunctory once-over, lingering for a few seconds over Hux's neck. The corners of her mouth twitch minutely before they resettle back into an expressionless line and she's all business again, despite the new twinkle in her eye. 

“Mr. Hux. Ren,” she greets, standing at parade rest now. Hux doesn't want to admit he's glad for her keeping of his title but he is; he's relieved for it. It makes him feel less unhinged. The title grounds him, gives him purpose, reminds him of the reasons why Snoke must die, as if the very big reason pressing against his side isn't enough. 

“General Organa,” he returns politely. He discreetly elbows Ren in the ribs when he doesn't reply until Ren finally grunts, “Leia.” 

Organa's expression falls a little before she quickly rearranges it back to neutrality but Hux supposes it's better than nothing. They can work on it. Ren can be a stubborn ass but he can also be trained, to some extent, as is apparent with the stint with his old master. 

“We've received new intel,” Organa is saying, “of a  _ Resurgent _ class Star Destroyer heading towards the Taris system.”

“Where did you get this information from?” Hux asks, unable to help himself. He's surprised at the very notion that such a large Destroyer would be sent so far from the rest of the First Order fleet. It makes no sense. 

“We received a new request for amnesty from another officer wishing to defect from the First Order. He was the one to supply us with this new information.” Organa taps a few keys on her screen and pulls up a file. “Lieutenant Dopheld Mitaka.” His official First Order file is pushed onto the main screen. The (now former) lieutenant’s round face fills up the holo, the still image of him looking nervous and mildly nauseous, as is usual for Mitaka. 

Hux sucks in a surprised gasp. Of all the officers he had expected to defect, Mitaka is the last one he would name. He had thought Mitaka was almost fanatically loyal to the Order. But then again, he himself was too. “What were his reasons cited for defecting?” he asks. 

Organa levels him with a long look before replying. Ren is a fond user of those cryptic looks as well. It must run in the family. Hux is starting to tire of these Skywalkers with their meaningful silent stares; dramatic, all of them. 

“His official cited reason,” Organa says, “is ‘change of ideology.’ When interrogated on base, here’s what he said.” She taps on the screen again and pulls up a holovid of Mitaka’s interview.

He’s still dressed in his First Order uniform, hands cuffed in binders and sitting at a table that looks identical to the Organa used to interrogate Hux. His fingers twitch occasionally against the tabletop and he’s looking nervously into the camera. His eyes are constantly flicking away to the side beyond the interviewer as though he doesn't want to meet their eyes. He swallows audibly and begins talking when prompted by his interviewer with an inflectionless, “State your name for the record.”

“My name is Dopheld Mitaka.”

“What was your previous organization affiliation?”

“I worked for the First Order.”

“What was your rank and role within the First Order?”

“I was a lieutenant and I worked on the bridge of the  _ Finalizer _ . I worked on Alpha shift.” Mitaka shifts a little in his seat, looking up at the camera and shifting his eyes to the side again. “I worked directly under General Hux.”

“Did you spend a lot of time around General Hux?”

“I would say so. I spent most shifts with him.”

“How would you describe General Hux?”

The shift of eyes again. Mitaka looks stricken as though he's unsure of how to answer. It's a long moment before he speaks again. “He's a very strict man. He demands a lot of discipline and hard work from his officers and the Troopers.”

“How would he interact with his officers and Troopers?”

“He didn't interact very much with the Troopers,” Mitaka says, looking sicker by the question. He is clearly uncomfortable talking about Hux, whether it is because of residual loyalty or fear, Hux is unsure. “But with his officers, we mostly interacted only to relay orders and reports. There is not much interaction outside of work. He mostly keeps to himself when not on duty. The person he probably interacted the most with is Kylo Ren.”

“What was his relationship with Kylo Ren like?”

Mitaka looks stricken and the fear creeps back into his eyes. He's unable to look directly at the camera when he replies, “I– I'm not sure. I've only ever seen them argue with each other or speak coldly at each other. I've only had one personal experience with Lord Ren.”

“What was the nature of that experience?”

“H-he Force-choked me.”

“Why did Kylo Ren Force-choke you?”

“I delivered some bad news. Lord Ren had a very– volatile temper.” 

Ren snorts beside Hux, who shushes him. Mitaka is clearly even more uncomfortable talking about Ren. 

“What was Kylo Ren's rank in the First Order?”

“I don't believe he had one. We mostly just called him Lord Ren. I only know that he was our Supreme Leader’s apprentice. We don't know much about him at all, really.”

“Who is the Supreme Leader?”

If Mitaka was uncomfortable talking about Hux and fearful talking about Ren, he is downright petrified talking about Snoke. He visibly steels himself before blurting his answer as though he wants to get it over with as soon as possible. “We only know him as Supreme Leader Snoke. We've never met him. He was never actually on the ship. He communicated o-only through holovid conferences and t-the officers were not privy to those. Only Lord Ren and General Hux a-answered directly to Leader Snoke.” 

Organa steps visibly into the frame on the vid to offer Mitaka a glass of water. He takes it gratefully and gulps down half of it in a single swallow that leaves him spluttering and coughing water down his front. He places the glass on the table in front of him with shaking hands as the interviewer continues the questioning. 

“What was your initial reaction when you learned General Hux has betrayed the First Order?”

“Shock. Definitely shock,” Mitaka replies, sounding shellshocked as though reliving the moment of discovery again. “All of us were shocked.”

“What was your initial reaction when you learned Kylo Ren also betrayed the First Order?”

“I was shocked about Lord Ren too,” Mitaka says, “but not knowing much about him, I couldn't exactly form much of an opinion. He had always been u-unpredictable so his leaving wasn't as shocking as the General. Bu-but there were some theories some of the officers and Troopers had about t-them.”

“What were those theories?”

“S-some said Lord Ren coerced General Hux into defecting. Some said they ran away to be together. Some said Lord Ren kidnapped General Hux. Some said they were planning it together all along to overthrow S-Snoke.” He says Snoke’s name as though he's afraid the very wretch could hear him and find him from half a galaxy away. He says it like an omen, as though uttering the very sound of Snoke’s name would summon him. “I-it's all speculation, of course, but some of the th-theories inspired other officers and Troopers to defect too. A lot of us felt uninspired after General Hux supposedly defected. We had not expected it of him. He was our biggest figurehead and inspiration so to have him leave– it didn't help morale.”

“What was your reason for leaving the First Order?”

Mitaka finally looks up at the interviewer and holocam at this question. He squares his shoulders and says, “General Hux. He is my reason for leaving. I don't truly believe he would have defected, not without good reason. And whatever his reason is, if it's good enough for him, it's good enough reason for me. I am seeking asylum from the Resistance in hopes that my General is here too. If he’s st-still alive– which of course he is.” He tilts his head up as though in defiance at the end of the sentence and the feed cuts off. 

“I do have to admit,” Organa begins as she switches off the projection, “I quite admire the loyalty your people have shown to you, even when they surrender to their enemies and come asking for amnesty.”

“ _ People _ ?” Hux frowns. “Who else is here aside from Mitaka?”

“Captain Phasma and nearly a dozen from her legion of troopers, as well as quite a few more officers,” Organa replies, her eyes crinkling in a not-quite-there smile. “They've brought quite valuable information, things that may even have been set in order after your leave of the Order. I suppose I should thank you, Hux, that your people's loyalty to you have even brought them to their enemies’ doors just to remain on the same side of the war as you.”

Stunned is an understatement for the overwhelming feeling of  _ surpriseprideanxiety _ that Hux is currently feeling. He leans against the console before him and takes a deep breath. Ren sidles up next to him and wraps an arm around his waist. Hux isn't sure if they should so blatantly display their change in relationship in front of Organa but as though hearing the thought, Ren leans in closer against him. 

“What are you going to do with them?” Hux asks, voice tight, not daring to hope. 

Organa's eyes are soft as she looks from Ren pressed against his side to Hux, who stares back as neutrally as he is able. “We are not the Empire or the Order, Hux,” she says. “We do not deal in unnecessary cruelty. I will hold a conference with the rest of command and decide then what route to take but for now, I can expressly say we are grateful for the new intel the defectors are bringing. I am of the opinion that it would be hypocritical of us to not accept them and their help when we so easily accepted Finn when he came to us.”

Hux nods numbly in reply. “And you said Mitaka gave you information that there is a Star Destroyer heading for Taris?”

“Yes. It is believed that they mean to take the system. Ever since your defect, the First Order has been on a rampage across the galaxy conquering small planets and systems. I suppose Taris is the next in its sight,” Organa says with anger edging her tone. “We will do what we can to prevent Taris from falling too.”

Hux hums in reply, deep in thought. It does not make any sense that Snoke would order for the conquer of Taris. It is far too deep into the Outer Rim, nearly touching upon the wilder territories. It makes very little sense to do that  _ now _ when– maybe he is attempting to lure Ren and Hux out from hiding, he realizes. Surely, he knows by now of their true defect, if he's ever had any Force connection to his apprentice. He must have realized Ren and Hux would be sought by the Resistance. He is trying to sniff them out. 

No, that can't be right. Hux glances over at Ren who quirks a brow at him. They take their leave of the war room and Organa and walk in silence to their room as Hux mulls over his jumble of thoughts. 

It makes very little sense that Snoke would send a large class Star Destroyer to take Taris when surely a fleet of smaller ones would serve the purpose better and more efficiently. Especially when the speed of a larger class ship would travel much slower. There would be ample time for a Resistance force to catch up to the Destroyer and stop it, perhaps even before it reaches Taris. Snoke must surely have some meaning or hidden reason to this plan that Hux is unable to see at the moment. 

Hux is still deep in thought when they arrive back at their room. The two guards are already standing sentry on either side of the door as they walk in. The moment the door swishes closed behind them, Hux finds himself pinned to the wall. 

“Stop thinking,” Ren says against his throat, and all thoughts of Snoke obediently disappear. “At least for now. You can get back to your war after this.” 

“You're such a selfish beast, Ren,” he gasps, complaining for the sole purpose of goading Ren. “Strategizing at this point is of utmost importan–” Ren cuts him off with another bite at his throat and his spine is arching under Ren's large hands. He marvels at the feeling, of finally taming this beast, his beast now. He luxuriates in the power vibrating in that body curved over him and the hands digging into his hips. This is what it's like to have someone, completely and wholly, and to be thoroughly owned in return.    
  
“Your beast,” is the wry answer. Ren's eyes gleam dark and feral, wild as they stare up at Hux in a mixture of reverence and bewilderment. He's sure he's wearing the same expression openly on his face, the same echoing adoration as he stares down at Ren, unable to look away. It feels as if there's a dark creature inside of him, gripping at his lungs until he's unable to breathe and tearing at his heart until it feels as though it hangs in ragged shreds in his chest.

Hux tangles his fingers into Ren's ridiculous hair to pull his head up for a proper kiss. They meet in a soft press of lips and tongue, all proper thought fleeing from his mind as Hux sighs into the kiss, tangling his tongue with Ren's in a wet slick slide. He shifts to wrap his legs around Ren's waist when he's pressed up on the wall, Ren's still-injured arm bracketing his head and the other stronger one moves down to hold him at his waist. 

Hux's pulse is thundering in his ears until all he knows is the too-hot press of Ren's body over his and Ren's grip on his ass when he finally pulls away, gasping for breath, panting in the bare inches between them. The minuscule distance feels too far. He wants to reach forward and cut Ren open so he can crawl into the space between his ribs and that still will not feel close enough. 

Ren is looking at him with liquid fire in his dark eyes, adoration clear on his face. Hux feels him in his head and he knows Ren has seen his thoughts and shares the same need for closeness, the overwhelming need to latch his claws in and never let go. There is a keening, vicious animal that lives inside him that yearns with the need to consume every part of Ren. The beast inside Hux's chest matches the beast in Ren's like a mirror image and this is it. This is the BenKyloRen he's spent his whole life aching for and he's the HuxAeden-reason Ren gave his life to a monster to keep. 

They're each no better than animals as they tear at each other, each kiss like a swipe of claws: vicious and clashing. Hux thinks the echo of Ren's emotion in his head– it's something akin to joy. He pushes aside all thoughts of worry and returns the sentiment clumsily, tries to push forward his own contentment and heart-aching  _ want _ . 

Ren responds with another searing kiss and hooks his arms under Hux's knees to grip him tight. He walks them to his side of the room and drops him gently on the bed, careful as though he's placing fragile treasure. 

Hux is immediately annoyed by the softness of Ren's sudden handling of him. He reaches up to bite at Ren's ear, unable to withstand this tenderness. They are not soft men, not after everything they've endured. 

“Come on, Ren,” he taunts. “Don't become a sniveling weakling now. I don't want this silly romanticism. I want the beastly,  _ monstrous _ Ren. I want the brutal, dark killer, the murderer, the torturer. I don't want soft whimpering  _ Ben Solo _ .”

Hux knows his words have hit home when a dark look steals over Ren's eyes as he crawls over him. He takes Hux's mouth in a searing possessive kiss as his hands work at unbuckling first Hux's pants and then his own. He pushes both down and shoves them off the bed all the while his tongue wraps around Hux's in a wet slide of muscle. 

Their shirts are next, divested quickly, barely breaking apart for more than a second before the shirts are over their heads and their lips meet again. Ren kisses like a starving man and his only sustenance is Hux. 

Hux yelps indignantly, breaking the kiss when a hand finds his nipple, feathering touches around the nub and tracing down his chest to his ribs. The hand drags slowly back up again to pinch lightly at his nipple and Hux is unable to help the moan that escapes his throat as he brings his own hand up to explore along Ren's chest. He traces along Ren's nipples in turn, moving up to Ren's throat, gripping loosely with both hands as Ren follows the form of his torso down to the crest of his hips. His hips are more sensitive marked with bruises Ren left with his hands that morning. Each touch over them feels like liquid fire with a direct channel to his cock. 

The hand reaches down to palm his cock, stroking softly along the length and Hux moans, arching into the touch. Ren's hand moves down, cups his balls briefly to roll them against his hand and moves further, down to press over the furl of his entrance, dipping the tip of one dry finger in. Hux moans again, shifting his legs to bracket Ren's sides, opening himself up in offering to Ren. 

Ren moves down his body slowly, predatorial, pressing his lips against sensitive spots on the way down. The kisses he presses along Hux's body are nothing short of reverent, moving slowly down to his pelvis, bypassing his cock completely before licking down behind his balls. He lifts Hux's hips slightly, for better access, and Hux will never admit it, not even under torture, how much he enjoys Ren manhandling him as though he weighs nothing. 

Ren presses his tongue flat against the furl of his entrance and Hux moans, the sensation nearly overwhelming in its intensity. It feels deliciously dirty, and so  _ good _ as Ren licks around his entrance in flat strokes of his tongue before lapping at the center, coaxing it open and sliding the tip of his tongue in. He begins to thrust in and out, opening Hux up with his tongue as Hux nearly bucks up off the bed. 

Hux doesn't know if they've been at this for minutes or hours. The sensations are both overwhelming and  _ not enough _ . He wants  _ more _ , more of Ren, to feel him in his entirety. 

Hux tugs Ren's face up by an insistent grip in his hair and presses their cheeks together as he says hoarsely, “I want to come on your cock alone. I don't want your fingers or your tongue. I've had enough of those. I just want to feel the burn of you for  _ days. _ ”

Ren reaches behind him and the lotion they used earlier flies into his hand.  _ Show off _ , Hux thinks with fond exasperation as he watches hungrily while Ren unscrews the cap. Hux takes it from him once the bottle is open, pours a generous amount onto his palm and moves his hand down to grip Ren's cock. 

He can barely close his fingers around the thick girth of it, the heavy warm weight a pleasant heft in his hand. He gives a few perfunctory strokes, spreading the slick along the length, his mouth watering at the thought of having Ren inside him. He guides Ren down until the blunt head is pressing against his entrance and Ren is looking down at him, his expression open. Ren doesn't ask if this is okay,  _ this is more than okay _ . 

_ I will lay low entire worlds for you, bring the galaxy to its knees. And together, we can have them all. We'll have the entire galaxy. I would do it all for you, give you the universe.  _

Oh, but Hux already knows. He knows all the atrocities Ren would commit in his name and his own willingness to do the same for Ren. 

But these words. They're as good as confessions of love for Hux. These dark words and darker promises he drinks in and holds tight to feed the feral creature living inside him. These are the words pushed into his mind as Ren pushes his cock into his body, scorchingly hot and impossibly large. 

Hux muffles his yells with his own fist as the first few inches as the large head of Ren's cock clears the tight ring of muscle, his hand gripping red-white bruises into Ren's arm. Ren has his hand over the flank of his thigh, bracing as he moves slowly, and Hux feels it all, inch by burning inch until he feels as though he's being split in two. 

Ren pauses when he's finally all the way in, gasping in stuttering breaths. Hux takes the moment to adjust to the girth stretching him wide, testing his own limits as he pushes down slightly on Ren's cock, taking him even deeper and drawing a moan out of them both. Ren's fingers are in a distractingly painful white-knuckled grip around his iliac crest so he pries the fingers away, leads Ren's arm up above his head and lets Ren press him into the mattress. Hux pushes down slightly again, wriggling against Ren, urging him silently to move. 

Ren pulls out until only the head is inside Hux and moves slowly in again, dragging the inches of his cock against Hux's inner walls. Hux moans and arches his back to let Ren in deeper, shifting to find the right spot. 

On the third stroke, Ren finds it, the little bundle of nerves inside Hux that makes him feel as though his skin is stretched too tight over his flesh and stokes the fire in his belly, bringing his blood to a singing boil. It makes him even more sensitive and he feels every inch of each of Ren's thrusts, reveling in the pleasure edged with pain as he's stretched wide open on Ren's cock. He pulls Ren into another kiss, a wet press of open mouths as they gasp into each other and Ren finally,  _ finally _ picks up his pace, thrusting in deep and fast, hitting that same spot on every stroke.

Ren fucks like he fights, all controlled violence with an edge of madness, borderline berserker. Hux delights in it, the sweet slide of pleasure-pain that he'll feel for days to come, the aching reminder of Ren's possession of him. Hux goads Ren on, echoing the sentiments Ren passes through the bond and encourages him with filthy words whispered breathlessly against his ear, “yes, right there. I love your big cock in me. It feels so  _ good _ . So  _ big.  _ Fill me up until there's nothing left but you.  _ Fuck me _ , Ren,  _ harder _ . Fill me up with your come like you mean mark me inside.”

Ren comes with Hux's name tumbling from his lips, sounding both like a prayer and a curse and Hux follows soon after when he feels the hot streaks of come fill him up on the inside. Ren's arm buckles and he gently lowers himself on top of Hux, presses his nose against his cheek and just breathes for a long while. 

Hux shifts against Ren's softening cock, brings his knees up around Ren's waist to lock him in place so he can't pull out. The beast in Hux's chest purrs in sated satisfaction, settling in his belly, satisfied for now. 

Hux wants them to stay like this for a little while more, curled tight around each other. If he can have it his way, he would like to stay this way for maybe forever. 


	5. Chapter 5

They're joined by Phasma and Mitaka for breakfast the next morning. They're already sitting at their usual table with Dameron and Finn by the time Hux and Ren approach. Hux is almost surprised to see their integration into the rest of the Resistance population so quickly. It had taken him over a week to be injected with the tracker and allowed to walk around the base, but perhaps the others had chosen to divulge important military secrets more quickly than he had. 

Mitaka appears excited to see him but wilts a little when he spots Ren standing directly behind Hux. Hux doesn't think the other officers have seen Ren out of his helmet and mask before but the prowling gait is unmistakable. He visibly shrinks further into his seat as Ren's gaze zeroes in on him, and Hux digs a discreet elbow into Ren's ribs.  _ Be nice _ . Ren answers with wordless petulance. 

Phasma is already chatting with Finn who appears nervous to be speaking with his former commanding officer again but he's warming to her quickly when she whispers something in his ear while looking directly at Hux and Ren. They laugh together as Hux and Ren take their seats, much to Hux's annoyance. 

“If it's another inane comment about any sort of betting pool about Ren and me from the  _ Finalizer _ , I will have both your heads,” Hux tells them coldly. 

“Oh so you do know about it!” Phasma says, delighted. “We had a running bet on whether or not you knew about the pool too.”

Hux stares, stunned for a brief moment. “What  _ didn't  _ you lot bet on?”

Phasma shrugs. “Not much. It passed the time between missions when we were all going crazy staring into dead space and it helped boost troop morale. We took what we could get, General.”

Hux supposed he could understand that. Not that it matters anymore, not when they're no longer on the  _ Finalizer.  _

_ “ _ My favorite,” Phasma says as she digs into her eggs, “is the one about Lord Ren.”

Hux perks up, interested. “What about  _ Lord Ren _ ?” he asks, smirking at Ren, who glowers back. 

“Most of the ship wondered what you looked like without that mask,” Phasma says, a little breathlessly. “There were a lot of bets for which species you might have been. There were quite a few on Zabrak and one even thought twi’lek.”

Hux laughs, genuinely amused at the thought of Ren possibly being a twi’lek. 

“For the record, sirs,” Mitaka says timidly, “I've never participated in such illicit contraband activities.”

Phasma pats him on the shoulder, her heavy hand accidentally pushing him further down against the table. “All past and harmless fun anyways,” she says cheerfully, returning to her food.

Hux begins digging into his breakfast when he realizes Dameron has been strangely quiet all morning. He's dressed in his full flight uniform with his helmet on the table next to him. 

“What's all this?” Hux asks, gesturing at the bright orange and white flight suit. 

Dameron is shoveling his breakfast into his mouth as though he hasn't eaten in weeks. Finn, on the other hand visibly deflates at Hux's question as though he's been dreading talking about it. All of his cheer vanishes as he picks at his food, barely eating any of it. 

“I have a mission,” Dameron replies between bites. 

“To eat the entirety of the base’s food supply?” Ren asks. 

Dameron stares at Ren for a long moment. “Wow, that's probably the most words you've said to me since– since we were kids. I mean not counting that time you, you know, tortured me and stuff. Someone must be in a good mood,” he adds, eying the bright red mark on Ren's neck. 

Hux huffs in annoyance. “Answer the question,” he commands. “What's this mission of yours?”

“We're following intel,” Dameron replies through a mouthful of food. Hux leans away slightly to get away from the spray trajectory of Dameron’s mouth.  _ Disgusting.  _

“What intel?” Hux prods, although he has an idea already and if that's the case, then  _ oh fucking no _ . 

“The new information the new refugees brought,” Finn says, finally speaking up, sliding his eyes to glance at Phasma and Mitaka who shrug in answer. He's still picking at his food, not eating much. 

“Oh, is that what we're calling us now?  _ Refugees? _ ” Hux asks bitingly. “We're not prisoners anymore? Even though we must wear these trackers and we’re only allowed in certain parts of the base? Even though they still can't trust us with a basic stun blaster, even if it means more hands to defend the base when you lot fly off into more suicide missions?”

Finn’s brow furrows in consternation. “Erm, yes?”

Hux nearly throws his tray at stupid Finn and stupid Dameron. He only refrains when he feels Ren's hand grip his knee. How ironic, he's now the one with anger issues and Ren is the one placating him. He turns to glare at Ren too, even as his hand rubs gentle circles over Hux's knee under the table out of sight. Hux refuses to be placated about this. 

“Quite honestly,” Dameron says loudly, breaking the building tension, “it doesn't matter what the term is right now. We can fight about that later when we're done fighting our real enemies. We're all friends now, right? The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that.”

Hux grits his teeth, the anger swelling. “You're avoiding the question. What is this mission?”

“It's based on the intel we received about the large Star Destroyer heading to Taris,” Dameron finally divulges. “We have some scouts report back the same thing so we're going to send out a couple of X-Wings to take a look. It shouldn't be too dangerous. We're not really going to do anything. We're just going to see what's going on and if worse comes to worst, we'll be around if Taris needs any help.”

“Did you both know about this?” Hux asks, turning to Phasma and Mitaka. 

Phasma shakes her head but it's Mitaka who speaks up, “that order was given after we had left, sir. Everything we were told was on a need-to-know basis after your disappearance.”

Hux feels his blood freeze in his veins. Something about this information and the resulting mission do not feel quite right. He passes the feelings of trepidation over the bond to Ren and feels him answering in kind. Something very bad is about to happen. “How many X-Wings and soldiers are you sending?”

Dameron's fork pauses halfway to his mouth. “About half,” he says. 

Hux pushes out of his seat. He needs to see Organa. He stalks out of the room at a fast clip before the others can ask him where he's going. He leaves Ren to sit with them, unsure if he will be able to control himself if Ren is there to reflect and project his anger back at him. 

He heads straight for the war room, where Organa occupies more often in than not. He's wondered before if she ever sleeps or if she spends all of her nights like he had once done on the  _ Finalizer _ a lifetime ago. Long nights spent delving deep into strategies and plans armed with tepid caf, analyzing them one by one until one of them finally begins to make sense whilst everything else blurs into murky stardust. 

Organa is in the middle of a meeting when he bursts into the war room. Her council sits around her, squabbling and talking over each other. Hux would never have allowed such disorderly conduct under his command. They all fall silent as he crosses the room in three long strides to stand at parade rest in front of Organa. 

“General–” he begins before being interrupted by one of the admirals. Hux vaguely recalls his name being Ackbar. 

“General Organa,” Ackbar says loudly, “I believe we were in the middle of a meeting. I do not recall prisoners being allowed to join us, even given the leniency we've shown Mr. Hux.”

Hux seethes silently, swallowing his pride and anger to keep his face as impassive as possible. It will not do for him to antagonize any of them just yet, idiots as they are. “Admiral,” he replies, “what I have to say is of utmost importance and is a very time-sensitive matter. Forgive me if I did not schedule an appointment first,” he says scathingly, allowing venom to drip into his voice. 

“General,” Hux continues, speaking directly to Organa and ignoring the rest of the barely functional idiots at the command table. “I believe you should halt your mission to intercept the First Order Star Destroyer at Taris.”

If Organa is surprised, she does not show it. She's silent as she thinks for a moment but she's interrupted as she begins to speak, again by Ackbar. 

“How dare you,” he blubbers, turning even ruddier under his orange-red skin as he swells in indignant anger. The other officers at the table begin to whisper amongst themselves. “Our council decisions are not to be questioned by you–”

“They are if you don't want to fly directly into a trap,” Hux snaps, losing his patience. 

“How do you know it's a trap?” another officer asks softly. Hux remembers his name being Major Ematt. 

“Unless you were working for the First Order this entire time, lying to the Resistance about your shift in loyalties!” Ackbar accuses, pointing a claw in his direction. 

Hux sighs through his nose. “I  _ don’t  _ know for sure it's a trap,” he says, ignoring Ackbar completely, not even deigning his comments with a rebuttal. “But think logically, General,” he implores Organa. “Why would the First Order send a large Star Destroyer to Taris now? When their forces are likely to be stretched considering their recent activity near Takodana and raids in the Middle Rim. I've given you all I know of the First Order’s immediate plans for the future, none of which match with this new move towards Taris.”

“How do you know new plans have not been made?” another admiral, Admiral Statura asks. 

Hux shakes his head, begins pacing in front of the gathered table to clear his head of unnecessary emotions. The movement helps him think. “It often takes a long time to organize and approve strategies. Each proposal must be made by a high ranking officer and approved through multiple channels before ultimately reaching Snoke, who has the final decision. The Order is not known to make hasty raids,” he does not add  _ the ones led by Kylo Ren notwithstanding.  _

“Perhaps you did not have clearance for this particular mission,” Statura suggests. 

Hux scowls, staring him down. “Unlikely. I had the highest clearance level apart from Snoke himself. I had clearance to access all of the Order’s plans and strategies for the next five years. Taris was never amongst them.”

“So what do you suggest we do, Mr. Hux?” Ackbar asks, getting loud again. “Shall we leave the people of Taris to be captured by the First Order and not send aid? Is that what you're suggesting now?”

“Yes,” Hux says simply. “Do not fly into a trap when your forces are already stretched thin.”

“If it is indeed a trap,” Ematt adds. 

“Regardless of whether it is a trap or not,” Hux says, “think of the logicality behind this move. It currently makes no sense for the First Order to send a large class Star Destroyer from one end of the galaxy to the Outer Rim in order to take a wasteland of a planet. Not to mention, they are doing so in what seems to be in a sudden decision made after I left the Order. A mere month ago! It is not possible that they First Order would plan to raid a planet in such a short time span; it usually takes nearly two months to approve even tech repair budgets. If it is not to draw the Resistance forces into dark space, then why would they–”

“There does not seem to be rhyme or reason to most of the actions of the First Order,” Ackbar interrupts as Hux seethes. He must truly be an arrogant idiot if he thought so. Every single move Snoke makes serves a purpose with a singular goal to take over the empire and to crush all existence of the Resistance and Republic. 

“General,” Hux implores again, turning to Organa, who has been watching the exchange between him and her commanders impassively, “please pull the troops back. It is a  _ trap _ .”

She looks at her commanders in turn before turning back to Hux. “I am afraid we cannot pull our troops back simply at your behest, when we were given verified intel from a former colleague of yours who seems to have more up-to-date information, Mr. Hux,” she says with a note of sympathy in her expression. 

Hux does not want her sympathy. He does not currently know what it means for the Resistance base at the current time to be without nearly half their force, but he knows Snoke must have something planned if he was to draw out an army with a single move.

“However,” Organa says, “we will be extra vigilant in our campaign. I will inform Commander Poe Dameron to be more careful when approaching Taris. Now if you'll please excuse us, we must return to our previous meeting.”

Hux turns and leaves. He goes to the lawn to watch with Finn as the fleet of X-Wings take off screaming into the sky. He schools his expression into impassiveness while his gut wrenches uncomfortably, threatening to expel the little food he had for breakfast. He knows somehow that this is going to lead to disaster and he reminds himself, it doesn’t matter. These are not his people, not his troops. It matters little to him if Organa and her commanders want to send half of them to their deaths. He needs to work on his own plans instead. It’s been too long here with the Resistance and he is growing soft and comfortable. That is unacceptable.

Hux finds Ren in the training gymnasium, circling the soldier Hux was sparring with a few days ago. He watches with savage pleasure and pride as Ren takes him down methodically, calm and lethal, unlike his usual berserker style. Hux takes a seat at the edge of the room with a handful of other spectators and watches as Ren moves in a fluid circle, the muscle shifting under his skin as he closes in on his opponent, predatory and dangerous.

Even with the healing wound in Ren’s arm, he takes down the soldier in a handful of moves that fully incapacitates him and leaves the soldier in a gasping heap on the mat. Ren’s mind is sparkling with satisfaction as he looks down at his opponent before turning around and his eyes lock on Hux.

He watches as Ren takes down three more Resistance soldiers, each hoping to prove their worth by trying to take down the biggest and baddest in the room. Ren makes it look effortless, even though he isn’t using the Force and Hux thrills at this show of raw power. When Ren is finished, he turns to Hux and advances towards him in a predatorial stride, grabbing him by the hand and leading him out of the gymnasium. 

Normally, Hux would be annoyed with Ren being so proprietary towards him in front of an audience but he finds he’s unable to care as Ren drags him to their room. Not with the clear image Ren is sending through their bond: a visual promise of him pressing Hux up against the wall and fucking him until he screams.

*

You’re running but you’re not going anywhere. Your feet feel weight and heavy, your steps dragging. But you need to run. Your mind is shrieking in panic, wanting to flee but your body is unable to do so. You need to get away. Something is chasing you, something Dark. You will die if it catches up to you so  _ run run run. _

All around you is pitch black. You can’t see anything. All you can feel is the cold and the heaviness of your feet and the looming presence that advances towards you until suddenly you’re falling.

Down.

Down.

Down.

A white flash of light. Everything changes.

You’re sitting sitting beneath a soaring deciduous tree. It’s an enormous dark monolith that stretches high above you, stark against the brightness of your surroundings. You’re shaded by the canopy of dark irregular patches of leaves and the bark on the tree is black. Somehow, you know that before the dream is over, it will peel away completely to reveal the ghostly flesh beneath the rough dark exterior.

Snow drifts down from above you, slowly covering the ground. The edges of the dream are hazy and blurry, a nondescript noncolor expanse that stretches infinitely in every direction. The only point of the clarity is the tree and the warm spot of contact where Ben is sitting pressed up next to you.

You look up at Ben and he looks so young, maybe twelve and you think maybe you are too. You tilt your head back until it rests against Ben’s shoulder and tuck your nose into the crook of his neck, shivering slightly from the steadily dropping temperature as falling snow blankets you both in a soft white cover. It’s cold in the dream but you don’t mind because Ben is a singular pinpoint of radiating heat. 

“I’ve missed you,” Ben says and you frown. That doesn’t feel quite right. Didn’t you just see Ben not too long ago? You’re quite sure you did, but you know this is a dream so you indulge him.

“I missed you too,” you tell Ben and Ben smiles down at you, making you feel warm despite the snow and cold. 

“I have to leave soon,” Ben tells you. 

“Why?” you ask frowning again. Why does Ben need to leave?

“I need to go,” Ben replies simply.

“Then I will go with you,” you tell him. Of course you’re going with him. Where Ben goes, you want to go too but Ben is shaking his head and you feel your heart sink.

“You can’t go with me, Aeden.” 

“Why not?” you ask, panic creeping up your chest, feeling like fingers against your throat and you’re unable to breathe.

You blink and you realize Ben is on top of you with his hands wrapped around your throat and his body a heavy weight on your chest. You’re too surprised to respond as your pulse rushes in your ears and panic claws at your belly. Ben’s fingers close right around your neck and you can’t breathe but this isn’t real this can’t be real Ben would never–  _ wake up wake up wake up _ .

This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real.

Your vision is darkening around the edges and the roaring grows louder in your ears. You realize Ben is speaking and when you look up at him, these black liquid eyes are not Ben’s eyes.

“Ben Solo is dead,” not-Ben roars down at you. “You are going to die next. I will not let a wretch like you stand in my way. You will die.” The fingers feel clawlike around your neck, closing off your air supply and your vision is fading and you feel like you’re falling again,

Down.

Down.

Down.

*

Hux jolts awake and sits up, gasping in heaving breaths as he tries to calm the frantic thundering of his heart. Ren is next to him, smoothing a soothing hand over his back and he turns to clutch at Ren. Hux runs a hand over Ren’s torso, counts the scars and moves up to trail fingers over his face, traces along the long scar before he is finally able to force himself to look up at Ren’s face. He doesn’t want to find the same black liquid eyes he saw in his dream. He needs him to be the real Ren.

Ren’s worried dark eyes are looking down at him, brown, Ren’s eyes, real Ren and he’s talking–

“I would never let him get to you,” Ren is saying. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill him for you, for us, for everything he took away from us.”

“How do you expect to do that?” Hux asks, his voice sounding hoarse, as though he’s been screaming.  Ren tightens the curve of his arms around him and Hux sighs, leaning into the warmth. HIs heartbeat is slowing, nearing normal but his throat feels tight still. It aches with phantom pain from the fingers choking off his airway in his dream and he half expects to find bruises ringed around his neck if he goes to look at his reflection.

“I’ll protect you,” Ren replies firmly. Hux doesn’t say how he doesn’t need Ren’s help. His pride may fool him into thinking otherwise but he knows truthfully, if either of them are to have a chance against Snoke, it would not be Hux. 

Ren holds him tight in the near-black dark and Hux sees only the gleam of his eyes from what little light they have. They shine with unshed moisture and unspoken emotion. the feeling that surges overwhelming in Hux’s chest makes his own eyes burn. Rens fingers dig into his shoulder, leaving dark bruises as Hux’s own hands grip at Ren's bicep, tight enough to hurt but he does not complain. 

"I hate you," Hux whispers, his mind pulsing with the exact opposite sentiment that he finds himself unable to voice. He knows Ren feels it, he understands. There could never be any disparity between them, not anymore. Not when Ren always in his head, and Hux always feels him in the back of his mind, nova-bright and warm and  _ real _ . "I hate you I hate you," he repeats, wishing it was true but breathtakingly glad it’s not.

"I know," Ren replies, also whisper quiet and curls tighter around him, digs the bruises deeper and Hux luxuriates in the answering feeling in his head. "I hate you too. More than life itself." 

They hold each other for a long time, silent and wrapped tight around each other. They drift in and out of sleep as the sun peeks behind the mountains outside the window and washes the room in a pink-orange glow. 

“We need to go soon,” Ren says sleepily and Hux knows he means the base. They will need to leave D’Qar soon. They’ve dallied too long. Every day they spend in D’Qar, Snoke is likely planning something else to draw them out of hiding and the longer they spend hiding like cowards, the more people will die when Snoke uses them to get to him and Ren. Like the trap he is setting for the Resistance fleet. He should not care, Hux reminds himself. 

Hux nods against Ren, his eyes feeling heavy. “Very soon,” he agrees.

Hux wakes in the morning, unable to remember having fallen asleep to the sound of Ren screaming and trapped in his dreams. He feels it, the pain Ren is experiencing in the nightmare. The feeling of his limbs on fire and the stabbing agony in his chest as he writhes on the bed, unable to wake. The sensations reflect through the bond and burns through Hux until he realizes he’s screaming too as he tries to wake Ren. He presses up against the burning nova connecting them, trying to reach for Ren but Ren is always just out of reach, untouchable in his pain.

Hux reaches back for the bond again, not giving up, even as waves upon waves of agony wash over him, stealing the breath from his lungs until the edges of his vision are tinged in white. The pain is a relentless pounding against the front of his head but he ignores it, reaches deeper. HIs vision whites out until everything disappears into blinding light and he can’t see. Everything becomes sound and sensation.

In the whiteness, the sounds of Ren’s screams echo in his head, growing louder as his the pain in his head intensifies. He gropes around, feeling nothing until he finally feels a hand pull against his, heavy and weighted, and he feels like he’s being pulled deeper. Falling.

_ No. _

He pulls back, trying to drag Ren from the horrors of his dream, away from the pain.

_ Wake up _ .

The grip on his hand slackens but Hux adjusts his grip, holds tight even when he feels the fingers slipping away from his.

_ Ren, wake up! _

_ Wake up! Please. Come back to me _ .

Hux pulls, straining against the weight trying to pull him down and the pain travels down his arm until that too feels like it’s on fire. It intensifies until he’s certain he’s losing his arm but he doesn’t care; he will not let go. He will not let go of Ren so he pulls and pulls until the white disappears and with a sudden gasp of breath–

Ren’s eyes snap open and he’s sitting up in bed, his chest heaving as he breathes deep breaths. Hux’s arm and head still feels as though they’re on fire, agony traveling from head to arm and back again in a continuous closed circuit. There’s a pounding noise and Hux slowly realizes it’s the guards pounding at their door; their screams must have alerted them. They have maybe ten more seconds before their guards burst in to check on them.

“Ren,” Hux rasps, his voice sounding even more hoarse than the night before.

Ren turns to him with wide eyes. “He knows.”

Hux feels his blood run cold in his veins. His breath comes shorter and his chest feels overwhelmingly tight even as his heart begins to beat like a war drum in a loud thudding rhythm until that’s all he can hear. Blood roars in his ears and his vision tunnels until all he sees is Ren even as he hears the doors swish open and he knows the guards are rushing into the room but all he can think about is–

_ He knows. He knows. He knows. Snoke knows. Snoke is coming.  _

There’s a roar of engines outside the window and the sound of a hundred trees bending to the whirlwind of motors. A bright flash of white light cutting through in the pink and purple glow of morning outside and a sharp scream pierces the still air. Hux realizes with heart-stopping clarity as he looks over at Ren,  _ Snoke isn’t coming. He’s already here _ .


	6. Chapter 6

Hux groans as he wakes. He pulls himself out of the darkness that clouds his vision, his head feeling heavy and clogged. There’s a pain behind his eyes, feeling as though there are tiny knives stabbing into his skull. He drags himself up, feeling the coldness of the stone beneath his hands and tries to take stock of his surroundings.

He’s in an unfamiliar dark room, all stone. The ceiling soars high above him, unseen. The stone beneath his hands is paved smooth but the walls look rough, interspersed with wide, cracked columns.  He’s alone in the huge room, as far as he is able to tell.

Hux tries to remember how he managed to end up in this unfamiliar place. His head is still pounding in a dull pain that presses hard against the back of his eyes as he struggles to sift through his mind. Trying to sift through his memories is like trying to sift through mud, thick and viscous and slow. A thick opaque vagueness clouds his memories as he tries to struggle through the muddy fog.

It comes back slowly, first in flashes of remembered sound and light. The sound of motors screeching and gusty sound of an engine winding down– a shuttle landing. There’s the sharp  _ pew _ of blasters, loud yelling and the harsh thud of stomping boots. And then a crackle and thrum of vibrating plasma, a flash of color, a loud scream, and darkness.

Hux tries to hold harder onto the memories, trying his best to see things clearer in his head and the headache intensifies the more he tries. The memories slip like sand through his fingers as the pain sears across his skull, wiping all further thought from his mind outside of his immediate circumstance. He has the niggling sensation that there is something–  _ someone _ he should be remembering and something he should check on but he cannot remember what it is, no matter how hard he tries. His head still feels stuffy and his thoughts are dense and slow, even as the creeping realization that he should be wary and afraid begins to set in. 

He knows he should be vigilant. He’s not in a safe place, this is not a safe place. He needs to  _ leave _ . BUt not before– something. What? What is he forgetting?

Hux pushes himself to standing and catalogues the physical state of his body. He’s still dressed in the plain black shirt and pants he always wears. They were given to him by– by who? He cannot remember, only that he knows these clothes were given to him. His pockets are empty, he realizes as he pats himself down for anything he can use as a weapon (nothing). He’s wearing his usual boots, and he has what feels like bruises running along his arms and bruises at the crest of his hip and all along his torso. Hux holds up his hands in the dim light and sees a cut in the space between his thumb and forefinger. The cut is congealed and no longer bleeding; a small pain but not much more than a nuisance. His hand works fine. He seems relatively unharmed, and it feels a strange sort of comfort from the dull ache he feels from the bruises along his hip. They remind him of the niggling sensation again– he should be remembering something. How did he get those bruises? That seems important, he should remember that but the headache flares again with a vengeance when he tries to pan his mind for the answer.

Hux finally gives up trying to remember and looks around the room again. It stretches, seemingly endlessly in two directions like a corridor, each end of the long hall dark and ominous. As he’s examining the room for any sign of life or light or  _ door _ (he knows he should leave, he needs to leave, but he  _ can’t _ , not until he remembers  _ something _ , whatever that is), he hears a loud yell coming from the darkness in the end further from him.

Logically, Hux knows that he should be walking  _ away _ from the end with the painful-sounding scream but drawn like a moth to a flame, he’s unable to stop his feet as they begin to step towards the sound. He picks his way carefully down the hall, passing his hand along the huge pillars lining the side, keeping to the shadows. 

After what seems like hours (minutes?) of the endless corridor with the identical pillars and identically shaded darkness, he finally reaches what he assumes is the end of the hall when it widens into an even larger room. Hux edges behind a pillar, careful in his approach. Only when he's hidden in the shadows between wall and column does he carefully peer out from the side to gauge his surroundings. 

The room is lit from a central point, washed in a cold bright light. The light slashes down from the tall ceiling onto a raised dias, with what appears to be an empty cracked stone throne. Something about this should be familiar to him, Hux thinks, but he’s unsure why and what it reminds him of, just something he realizes he should remember.

Standing before the throne with his back facing Hux's direction is a tall wraithlike figure shrouded in shadows despite the fall of bright light just behind him. At the edge beyond the light are six hooded and masked figures, all of them wearing the shadows they’re standing in like cloaks. There is someone lying on the floor in front of the decrepit throne. It’s a man dressed like Hux; he’s gasping in pain as he tries to push himself off the floor with shaking arms. Something about him seems familiar and maybe this is what he’s trying to remember, but try as he may, Hux is unable to place where he may have known this man. 

The man turns as he stands and Hux sees his face finally. His dark hair is long and matted with sweat and what appears to be blood, dripping in pale red trails down the nape of his neck. A grisly red scar bisects half of his face, from his forehead, across his long nose and down to the corner of one lip. Something about that scar feels painfully familiar, and Hux wants to step out from the shadows and shout out to the man. To run to his side and help him but self-preservation keeps his feet rooted firmly in place. 

The man is heaving for breath when he finally manages to stand on unsteady legs. He's standing hunched over, holding his arm in pain. Something silver glints at his hip but from the distance, Hux isn't sure what it is. The shape is strange and unfamiliar but the wraith seems to recognize it. 

The wraith laughs, cold and low, mocking. “You presume to defeat me with  _ that _ , apprentice?” He waves one bony long hand lazily and the object (a silver bladeless cross guard, Hux realizes) flies across the room to skitter behind a pillar. “There was much potential in you, Kylo Ren. How very disappointing.”

The injured man sneers. His teeth are stained red with blood, presumably his own. “ _ Potential _ ,” he rasps. His deep voice sounds achingly familiar to Hux too. Everything about him is familiar but Hux is unable to remember still. But this man is important to him, Hux somehow knows. 

“Potential to be another of your puppets,” the man continues, gesturing with his uninjured arm in a wide arc at the six figures standing at the edge of the room. “I've seen and known your sort of potential. I'm all too familiar with your sort of promises.”

The wraith makes a tsk-ing sound, a thin grating whistle. “No matter,” he says. “You will join them. Yet another failed apprentice, you may join their ranks when I take everything from you.”

“You can try,” the man says, his voice strong, despite the shakes that wrack his body. 

The wraith laughs again. “I need not only try, Kylo,” he says, as though he's already won. “I have what is most important to you. You can watch me kill him first. Come forward, General.”

Hux's feet are moving as though of their own volition, dragging him towards the center of the larger room.  _ Run _ , his mind is screaming even as his feet step closer to the wraith. The pounding headache intensifies as he nears them, reaching a point of white-hot agony as he drops to his knees before the shell-shocked injured man. 

“Hux,” he breathes and Hux barely hears him over the roaring in his own ears. 

“He does not remember you,” the wraith says, his voice growing colder with every word he speaks. “I have told you before, one day he would not be yours to keep. I had allowed this indulgence for far too long, to your detriment.”

“Hux!” the man yells frantically again, ignoring the wraith. 

“Would you like for him to remember you when he dies? I can arrange for him to scream your name in his last throes of agony,” the wraith promises. 

“I will have  _ you _ screaming in agony,” the man replies. He straightens his stance with what appears to be great pain and reaches a hand out. The silver crossguard clatters across the floor before flying into his hand and the room is suddenly washed in a glow of red light and the sound of crackling plasma. A lightsaber. 

Hux tries to pull himself up despite the agony in his head. The pain intensifies as he moves and he nearly blacks out as he sits up. The lightsaber is important too, he knows, somehow. He thinks maybe it would help the injured man a great deal if only Hux can remember him. 

He shuts his eyes and tries to organize his mind in some semblance of order to access his memories. His mind is usually very organized, he remembers. It used to be categorized in sections for different memories and information, for easier access in the future. 

Hux’s head now feels as though it is stuffed with cotton and trying to access his memories is like trying to wade through muck. He struggles against the thick currents in his mind to come upon what appears to be a dark wall. Hux knows he has to get through this wall. Something very important is hidden behind it. Something that could mean his and the injured man’s survival. 

He pushes hard against the dark wall but it does not give. It holds fast, stronger than durasteel and colder than ice. The wall is a deep black, black in a star-consuming way. 

It reminds him of someone. 

_ Ben _ . 

No, not Ben. Ren. His name was Ren. 

_ Whose name? _

That name is important. Hux keeps it close to him and pushes again, feeling the wall move a little, but it's not enough. He still doesn't remember what is most important but he knows the name Ren is the key to all of it. The pain intensifies as he pushes again and again, burning like fire behind his eyes until he feels as though his head is probably melting and the inhuman sounds he hears are his own screams. 

And then Hux realizes his screams are a word. “ _ Ren.”  _ The injured man is staring at him, frozen in place as the largest of the six figures in the shadows behind him advance with his vibrosword raised. “ _ Ren _ !” Hux screams again, trying to alert the man of the presence behind him, but his words choke in his throat from the new swell of burning agony that overtakes his head. 

Hux's vision is greying at the edges but– _ no, he cannot black out. Not now. Ren needs him.  _

_ Ren! _

_ I'm sorry. I'm sorry! _

Hux isn't sure if the apology is being uttered by him or by the man who turns in a swift circle to meet his oncoming opponent before his vision fades to black and he knows no more. 

*

He's sitting beneath an enormous tree and in the distance, he hears the sound of waves. There's the wet tang of salt hanging in the air but the trees around him are still green, untouched by the ocean. The sky above is grey, colorless, like how they often appear in his dreams.  _ Is this a dream _ ?

_ No, a memory.  _

_ Who said that? _

_ I'm Ben.  _

_ Ben? Why does that name sound so familiar? _

_ Because one day, I will be the most important person to you. Just as you are the most important person to me.  _

_ How do you know that? _

_ I told you. This is a memory. That's already happened.  _

He blinks, and everything focuses into crystal clarity as though his eyes had been closed the entire time and he's only just opened them now. Standing before him is a boy. They're the same age, he thinks but he can't be certain. The boy has soft-looking dark hair that curls against his neck and he has the faint phantom memory of running his fingers through that hair. The boy is lanky and tall, taller than him, he notes with displeasure, but there's a feeling in the back of his head that tells him he will come to enjoy that too, in the future when they've grown. 

The dark haired boy reaches out a hand and he tentatively takes it. This feels achingly familiar,  _ right _ , and he's not sure why. He's not sure about anything with this boy but he trusts him, innately and wholey, so he follows as the boy leads him deeper into the trees. 

_ I've always been told I cannot keep you.  _

_ Why not? _

It's strange to be able to talk to this boy without saying a single word aloud. But it also feels natural, easy. 

_ It doesn't matter. I will fight to keep you. I will always fight for you.  _

_ Can't I fight for myself? Can't I fight for you as well? _

The other boy smiles. 

_ You will. We both will.  _ The smile turns sad.  _ We will both fight very hard to keep each other, but that's okay. We must fight for anything that's worth keeping.  _

He nods, understanding. 

_ You said your name is Ben.  _

_ Yes.  _

_ But that's not the name of the person most important to me.  _ He knows this clearly, like he knows certain things, like he knows the stars, like he knows himself. 

The other boy smiles.  _ You're right. I will have many names.  _

_ What's your name when you become mine? _

The boy’s smile turns sad.  _ I've always been yours.  _

The trees are growing denser and the sky is fading above them. The shadows stretch long and dark and he remembers being afraid of the dark but here with this boy, he feels brave. He knows he has to get somewhere, and having the presence of this boy by his side bolsters his courage and quickens his steps. The other boy’s hand in his feels warm and solid until all he knows is that singular presence. 

As the shadows are stretching ever longer, he feels himself growing too. Suddenly, he’s taller and bigger and the boy is too, matching him in height and eventually surpassing him. Above them, the glow of the sky is fading into darkness to match the shadows that curl like tendrils around their feet. A moon rises to replace the previous glow of the sun. When he opens his mouth to talk, he realizes he had not been speaking all along. He had been talking to this strange boy in his head, something that bewilders him and astounds him both.

_ Do we always talk this way? _

_ No, I know it’s harder for you to do this. But I prefer this way; it makes me feel closer to you. _

He twines their hands tighter together, luxuriating in the feeling of the boy’s larger hand closed over his. The warmth of their point of connection keeps the chills at bay as the temperature drops steadily in the night. The darkness is closing in on them, creeping up at their heels.

_ Why is there someone trying to tear us apart? _

The boy doesn’t reply immediately.

_ There’s a bad person, who doesn’t understand us. He wants my power but he thinks you’re in the way. _

_ Why does he think so? _

_ Because you keep me from falling into the darkness. He wants me to fully give myself to the dark. I can’t do that as long as I have you. _

_ You should not ever let someone control you that way. Not if you can help it. _

The boy smiles at him, his expression soft. They’re nearing a bright clearing. By the time they step fully out of the trees, the clearing is washed aglow with the enormous moon hanging above them. The air is still chill but he feels much warmer next to this boy. They stop in the middle of the grass and he takes a moment to breathe in the chill air. He tilts his head up, taking deep breaths, as though in preparation– of  _ something _ .

_ Do you remember yet? _

_ What do I remember? _

_ Us. You have to remember. I’m depending on you now. _

_ What if i can’t? _

_ You will. You have to remember, for the both of us. _

_ I don’t think I can. _

_ You can. I believe in you. We’ll be together again, very soon. _

When he turns back, the boy is fully grown and he feels it in his own limbs too. They’re both taller and the boy, the boy is so devastatingly handsome. His face is so familiar and he struggles to remember everything he’s meant to, scanning the boy’s face for clues as his dark hair curls longer against his forehead and his nose lengthens, his chin sharpens. He reaches up to trace the moles dotting his face and traces the constellations between them.

_ Ren _ .

The boy– the man, smiles, sad and relieved. 

_ Yes, Hux. _

*

Hux wakes with a gasp and sits up, even as trembles shake his body. His head feels blissfully light and clear and the block that made his head feel murky and heavy is gone. His memories are back and he presses lightly against his bond with Ren, delighting in being able to see and feel it again. 

_ Ren– _

He looks around the room to see seven bodies sprawled across the floor. Six of them are unfamiliar; they were the cloaked figures in the shadows. They were once Ren's Knights, all dead now, silent and unmoving. Ren had somehow managed to take down all of them by himself, even when gravely injured, Hux realizes with a swell of pride. 

Ren’s worryingly still body is also sprawled on the floor in front of the cracked stone dias. Hux feels his heart catch in his throat and bile rising in his gorge when Ren remains still even as he pushes tentatively against the bond. He only knows that Ren is still alive; otherwise the connection would’ve been severed, and Hux doesn't know if either of them would've survived that. He folds his consciousness around the bond in hopes that it would protect Ren’s side of it while he’s still unconscious and begins to walk towards Ren.

Before he is able to reach Ren, the dark wraith-like figure appears in front of Ren and turns to Hux. Snoke. Hux feels his blood run cold and he stops in his tracks even as his mind screams at him to go to Ren. He needs to reach Ren. Otherwise, Ren will die. 

“General,” Snoke greets. He's even more ugly and vile in person than Hux remembers seeing him in holograms. His mouth is twisted in a gnarled sneer whilst his flesh is grey and pasty, parts of it looking as though it is rotting. His robes hang off of his emancipated frame like ragged strips of darkness and the stench of him– it is near unbearable. He smells of death and decay and Hux nearly gags at the scent. Snoke is tall but not otherwise very intimidating looking. He is but an old fool playing at power games. 

Hux knows that Snoke does not currently wield the power he so desires. If he has the power already, he would not be so eager for Ren's, not would he have kept Ren alive if he had indeed been able to take his Force. Hux knows all of this innately, he knows he is not wrong so he hoards that knowledge, keeps it close while he distracts Snoke so he can step across the room to Ren. 

Hux schools his face into in passiveness and returns coldly, “Supreme Leader,” wanting to choke on the words, so overwhelmed is he with hatred for the wretched monster. 

Snoke answers with a twist of his broken mouth. “I had underestimated you. I had not thought you were strong enough to be able to break out of your fugue.”

“That's always been your mistake. You've always underestimated me. From the day you began manipulating us, you've always thought I wouldn't matter in the equation. You've always been so blinded by power,” Hux says calmly, even as he feels the anger boiling in his belly and pushing against his chest. 

Snoke laughs. “You always did think very highly of yourself. You, child, most of all allows power to cloud your mind. Especially when you, yourself do not hold any, therefore you lust after others’ powers. Don't deny that's why you've always been drawn to Kylo Ren.”

Hux doesn't bother telling him how wrong he is. A creature like Snoke would never be able to understand their bond. Hux does not care to educate him. He edges past one of the fallen Knights’ bodies, not looking down at the mangled corpse and nearly trips over the plasma blaster that Knight had favored. He cannot spare the focus for the possibility of a weapon now, not when he's so close to Ren. Only a few more steps–

There's a low rasping sound, like the scrape of leaves across stone. Snoke is laughing. His black beady eyes are boring into Hux as he watches him kneel over Ren. 

“It is useless, General. Ren is lost to you. However, if you do not believe me,” he raises a hand and Hux feels Ren's body jerk awake in a rush of movement, “I will show you. I will be sure he knows he was the one to kill you.”

Hux watches in time-stoppingly slow seconds as Ren's eyes open but the expression in them are blank. They're unseeing as they stare at Hux, as though Ren truly no longer resides in his own body and there is no response, even as Hux frantically pushes at their bond. 

_ Ren.  _

_ Ren.  _

_ Ren! _

There is a bright flash of red that swings in a lethal arc and a loud familiar crackling thrum. Hux feels a sharp burning pain in his shoulder and then numbness all over. He watches in stunned disbelief as what was once his left arm drops to the ground, detached from his shoulder. The surreal tableau does not feel like it's happening to him but bile rises in his throat as Hux watches the singed limb fall to the paved stone. He turns back to Ren and his heart nearly stops when he sees the broken expression on Ren's face. 

Ren who has seemingly finally broken out of whatever spell Snoke put on him and has returned to himself. Perhaps that arm was the sacrifice necessary to wake Ren again. If that is so, Hux would pay the price over and over to have Ren returned to him. He touches Ren's face with his remaining hand softly and tries to convey his  _ forgivenessunderstandingsorrowlovelovelove _ as his vision begins to fade. 

In the handful of seconds before his body convulses in shock and he loses consciousness, Hux watches with brutal satisfaction as Ren's saber arcs again and a wretched grey head rolls across the floor. 

*

Hux returns to wakefulness like a drowning man breaking through the surface of an ocean. He sits up suddenly and heaves deep gasping breaths, his lungs constricting as though no matter how deeply he breathes, there's still not enough air. 

He looks frantically around, disoriented. Everything is so  _ bright _ and  _ blinding  _ and he can barely see the room he's in. There's the sound of an unfamiliar beeping that he soon realizes are monitors and med-droids so he must be in some sort of med-bay. But whose med-bay is he in where is Snoke where is  _ Ren  _ no no no– the last he remembers, Ren was lying motionless on a cold stone floor as though he was dead and their bond was silent did he lose Ren where is Ren Ren  _ Ren! _

A large hand grips his and it feels so familiar and Hux nearly hyperventilates in relief. He moves to bring both hands over it and that's when he realizes– remembers his left arm is gone. He stares at the space where his arm used to be and feels the ghostly sharp pain of his lost limb. The hand covering his squeezes gently and another hand gently tips Hux's face up into the light. 

He breathes a deep sigh of relief, forgetting even his arm when he sees Ren. He wants to kiss Ren all over, just to be sure this is all real, this is not some dream, all of his memories are real and correct and unaltered and they're not living in a horrible vision Snoke created for them and and and–

“Breathe, Hux,” Ren says softly, tipping his forbear against him. “Breathe, you're safe now. This is real. This is all real. You're remembering correctly.” 

Hux realizes Ren's voice is shaking and there are wet dots appearing on the sheets covering the lower half of his body. Ren is  _ crying.  _ Ren is crying over  _ him.  _

He brings a hand up to wipe at Ren's tears, pressing softly against his cheek and tilts his head back up. “It wasn't your fault,” Hux whispers, feeling Ren's anguish and guilt through their open bond. “Snoke was controlling you.”

“I should've been strong enough to stop him. I should've been able to protect you.”

Hux sighs. “It wasn't your fault,” he repeats. “I'm not some fragile thing you always need to protect, Ren. I'd say this is a small price to pay for being rid of Snoke, wouldn't you say?”

Ren makes a choked sound in his throat. “I would never sacrifice any part of you for anything, not even to kill Snoke.”

“Don't be melodramatic, Ren,” Hux says, snappish. He's only just woken up and he's already dealing with Ren's theatrics. He's not ready for that, not when he's dying for some pain-meds and a fucking glass of water. 

Ren dutifully leaves to fetch him the water and two pain-tabs without being told. Hux feels panicked as soon as Ren leaves his side.  _ Pathetic _ . He tries to calm his racing heart and gently touches the bond to remind himself Ren is only a few steps away. Hux grips onto Ren's hand again as soon as he returns, uncaring that he's acting like a child. 

“Where exactly are we?” Hux asks after taking the meds and draining the glass of water in three large gulps. 

“We're on a Resistance shuttle, on our way back to D’Qar,” Ren replies. “Leia found us with the coordinates you gave her when we first got to D’Qar.”

Hux hums softly. “I'm quite surprised those were actual working coordinates considering Snoke’s fondness for secrecy and deception.”

Ren shrugs noncommittally. “I know you have no desire to join the Resistance,” he begins, “so when you've healed, we can– go. Anywhere. I don't care. Not as long as I'm with you. I don't think Leia will try to keep us, knowing, but if she does, I'll bring down the whole base so we can leave if I have to.”

Hux smiles softly, suddenly feeling tired. “How very sentimental, Ren.” He pulls at Ren's hand until Ren acquiesces and carefully climbs into the bed with him, curling tight against his Hux's chest, eyes soft and expression open. 

Hux sighs, already drifting towards sleep. Whatever they do next, they can decide later. He simply wants to bask in the contentment of finally having their hard-earned peace for a short while. Perhaps it's the pain-meds talking or perhaps it's his own twisted mind, but for the first time in a long time, Hux feels an odd sort of contentment. 

He's oddly  _ happy,  _ laying here with Ren, despite the loss he's had to endure. Nevertheless, his heart is bursting with emotions he doesn't want to voice. He can't bring himself to say the words even as they run in continuous litany in his head.  _ Loveyouloveyouloveyouloveyousomuch _ . 

They are not those men who could've said those kind of words out loud and they're lucky to even have this. It has to be enough even as Hux's mind sings  _ mineminemineloveyou _ but out loud he presses Ren's name into the soft curve of his shoulder and the hard line of his clavicle. Ren understands and responds with his own rasp of Hux's name, soft and reverent.  

Maybe in anyone life, they could've had those prosaic words and lovely sentiments. In a world where he could've stayed as Aeden and where Ren could've survived as Ben. But they don't live in that universe and they never will so this will have to be enough.

“I hate you,” Hux whispers. 

“I hate you too,” Ren replies. “More than life itself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please come visit me on tumblr (pineapplebread.tumblr.com) where we can all be friends and talk about Kylux!


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